Only If For A Night
by GranthamGal
Summary: Modern AU. Robert Crawley is the owner of a large chain of 4-star hotels in Europe. Cora Levinson is an American on holiday, rumored to have capital she is looking to invest overseas. Will what began as a carefree affair over her holiday become more? When the media gets wind of their romance, what will happen when she is confronted with Robert's true motives for seducing her?
1. One

_Prologue_

He was looking up at the stars.

Not any in the sky, but the ones glittering across the ceiling of Jalouse, illuminating the room just enough for those lucky enough to pass the velvet rope to highlight what they wanted to show and hide what they didn't. The air was thick with the scent of expensive liquor and cologne paid for by the ounce but worn in excess.

It was the sort of members only haunt one paid obscene amounts of money to enter, only to soon realize that disenchantment clung to the walls, seeping into your pores the second you turned your back.

Not that any of that mattered, of course. John had dragged him out under the guise of blowing off steam—of making good use of the company expense account and complimentary membership, while they still could. Twenty Eight year old hotel heirs were expected at these sorts of places. He was just filling a role; playing the part he was born to play.

He sees her from across the room, standing at the bar. Well, rather, he sees her very tight black dress from across the room, just as John returns with fresh drinks.

"Cora Levinson," John says, handing him a drink as he follows his gaze. "American. Wealthy."

"I don't recall asking."

"She is the type we need investing—young, international, beautiful. Go talk to her."

"Christ, I can't even have a drink without getting shoved back into business? I doubt she is interested in hearing a sales pitch on a Friday evening in the middle of a bar."

"Just go introduce yourself. Chat her up. Invite her to the big investors marketing event next Friday."

"Bloody hell. I've turned you into a workaholic Mr. Bates. Why don't you go chat her up?" He mumbles, taking another pull on his drink. John only rolls his eyes, likely tired of hearing him complain about business on a near constant basis.

"You brought me on to help you market the business. You need investors, Robert, and that girl would certainly rather hear a marketing pitch from the very charming Robert Crawley." He chuckles, sipping his own drink and eyeing his friend with a grin.

* * *

Robert always had better luck with women than he had. He watched women fawn over Robert Crawley for years when they were younger. He supposed it had something to do with the name, the promise of wealth, or the way he somehow gave off an air of power. He was a good man, and a good friend, but utter rubbish when it came to life outside the castle walls his parents had erected. Somehow, Robert always seemed perpetually one step behind on the path his father had left him.

They met at University nearly ten years earlier. Becoming fast friends, the two had crossed the great divide, so to speak. Robert arrived at Cambridge only to please his parents, while he had been there on a hard earned scholarship. They had gone in different directions after school—Robert taking the helm of the business after his father died, and he moving to LA to work in the marketing department at Warner Brothers. He had just finished work on the last _Batman_ movie when Robert emailed, asking if he'd consider taking a job back in London. He arrived at Grantham Property Management ten days later.

The company was losing money, and fast.

He suggested cutting losses and moving on, but it was a deteriorating dynasty that Robert insisted he would do anything to save.

* * *

Robert is still eyeing the young American woman from across the room when he looks up again, pulling himself from his thoughts.

"I'll go talk to her," he mutters. He smiles and takes a last sip to fortify himself before crossing the dace floor headed in her direction. Hideously overcrowded, and filled with a mixture of wealthy business types, and others desperately trying to be; dressed in knock off designer clothes with hungry looks in their eyes.

She doesn't turn toward the dance floor, even as he approaches, and so he is forced to speak to her back. "May I buy you a drink?" He leans in slightly and catches a whiff of her perfume.

She turns to smile at him, or perhaps to size him up, and has obviously had a few drinks already. She succeeds only in a slight grin and offering him an outstretched hand.

He tries again. "Robert Crawley." His gaze is appreciative as he reaches for her hand, which she shakes firmly. "It's a pleasure, Miss Levinson."

"Cora," she corrects and he finds her accent fascinating. Her blue eyes are bright and full of humor. She is really lovely, which is a bonus. "My parents were traditionalists."

He grins at her and is pleased when she mirrors his smile. "I think it suits you."

"You want to buy me a drink?" She rests her empty glass on the bar and smiles, making him forget for a moment why he came over in the first place.

"Yes." He recovers smoothly, a skill borne out of his wealthy breeding, and raises a hand to alert the bartender. She matches his movements, though, and curls her hand around his forearm, maneuvering it gently back down.

She doesn't release her grasp and instead leans up, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear, whispering a proposition he never expects. "Come back to my hotel room."

Her gaze is full of mirth when he retracts, trying desperately not to appear surprised by her boldness. He shouldn't be surprised, after all, as he has repeated the same line to countless women. But never has he been on the receiving end, and it unnerves him. "You don't want a drink?"

She smirks and finally releases his arm from her gentle grasp. "I have plenty of drinks back in my room." She straightens up, resting back on the bar and giving him a once over glace that he finds both apprising and exciting.

"I'd have to call my car." He concedes, beginning to play along with her little game.

"Mine is already outside," She counters, no longer playing at all. Before he can answer, her hand is wrapped around his wrist again and leading him through the sea of people on the dance floor. He catches John's amused gaze as they pass and a second later he is shocked by a rush of cold air as they meet the sidewalk.

She points to a black town car; a driver exits and opens the door for them. He tries to help her in, but she slides in the back far more smoothly than he does, crossing her legs as she settles into her seat and smiles at him.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaching for his seatbelt but pausing when he realizes how ridiculous he must look. He turns to her, finally, to meet her amused gaze. "Safety first?" He chuckles.

She nods and wordlessly leans in. Her hands snake around to the back of his neck and her lips press to the corner of his mouth. He is surprised at her eagerness, dumbly releasing the seatbelt he had been clutching, and slides his hands around her waist.

She feels warm, hovering right above him, but her hands are still cold from the outside air as they work their way through his hair and down his neck. She says nothing, only presses herself against him and intensifies the kisses until he can barely breathe.

When the car pulls up to The Savoy, neither passenger notices until a swift knock raps against the window, her driver standing outside their door. She releases him and absentmindedly straightens out her dress. He thinks he catches a slight blush creeping up her neck, but she grabs his hand and leads him out of the car before he has a chance to study her with great detail.

She is met with familiar nods as she passes through the lobby, floating through like it is her home, her hand still entangled with his.

It is not until they reach the privacy of the elevator where he begins an onslaught of his own, backing her to the corner with the fervor she first pursued him with. She closes her eyes and groans softly as his hand slips beneath her dress, slowly trailing up her thigh. He is just about to wrap his fingers around the lacy undergarments beneath, when the _ding_ of the elevator interrupts their coupling.

He backs away and offers her his hand once more, allowing her to lead him to the end of the hall. She grins widely at him for a brief second and with a swipe of the entry card they are standing on the dark marble floor of her hotel suite.

He looks around at the immaculate space and the beautiful woman in front of him. He watches as she fumbles with her heels for a moment, flinging them across the room as soon as she successfully unclasps the buckles. Her eyes meet his and he feels obligated to break the prolonged silence that has been in effect since their arrival at the hotel. "Would you like me to pour you a drink?" His voice is surprisingly unsteady as he removes his suit jacket and sets it on a nearby chair.

She shakes her head in refusal and approaches him again, her hands quickly remembering their location from the elevator. He closes his eyes until a moment later when he hears her unzip something. In one quick motion the small black garment she wears is on the floor, a tiny puddle of fabric that she kicks to the side. Her skin glows pale and smooth against the dimly lit room and when he takes her into his arms she feels as though she fits.

She clings tightly to him as they embrace, his lips all over her and his mind racing. She mumbles _"to the bedroom," _and they both stumble backward toward the room, their bodies tangled together as they move.

The drinks can wait


	2. Two

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I'm happy you all enjoyed the prologue. And once again, major thanks to Krisnreine for beta awesomeness :)_

* * *

When Cora woke the next morning it was to a pounding head and the vague feeling she had done something that would no doubt displease her mother, yet again.

The room was utter chaos. Blankets and sheets had been torn off the bed and were all over the floor. Several bottles of champagne, which she assumed to be empty, littered the dresser and bedside tables. But it was only when she looked down and was met with the bare skin of her chest, her clothes long discarded in the corner of the room, that she turned and became aware of the large snoring form beside her.

She pulled the sheet up to cover herself; a gesture she supposed was a bit wasted, considering the state of the room. Peering over at her bedmate, she felt a grin sneak across her face. He was rather handsome. And a quick peek beneath the bed sheet only served to widen her grin.

Toying with the idea of settling back beneath the sheets and getting a few more hours of sleep, Cora lay back as if exploring; her hands running across the expanse of his back and then down a bit lower. His hair was tousled and his clothes appeared to be scattered across the floor as well.

_His._

What was his name, again? Robert. Robert, something. It was definitely Robert. Probably.

It only took seconds to decide she could not fall back asleep beside Robert _Something._ And so instead, she hauled herself out of bed and raced across the cool floor toward the bathroom, hoping he would be gone by the end of her long shower.

She clicked the door closed, hoping the noise would wake him and he would vacate quietly and not leave a mess. Turning the water to the shower on, she leaned back against the sink and squinted at her reflection in the mirror. Last night's makeup did not look quite as good come morning. Her long brown curls were sticking out in odd quirks and spirals but other than that, all seemed as it should be.

When steam began to fill to room she stepped into the large glass enclosure of the shower, relishing in the hot water and the satisfying feeling of washing the previous night from her skin. She lathered her hands with soap and ran them over her face, hoping the makeup would wash away as well. She could feel the heavy mascara trailing down her cheeks and knew she had put on too much.

What she had been doing wearing that absurd amount of makeup, she really had no idea. It had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening: get all dressed up and go out to some exclusive club. She could play the _exotic American _and be as mysterious as she liked, never having to talk about herself or anything deeper than what sort of cocktail she wanted.

And it was fun at the start. She didn't look like herself, and when she spoke to people at the bar, she didn't quite recognize the haughty American tone she had adopted, but it was still fun at the start.

And after a while, it stopped being fun. A little after midnight, as her shoes started to pinch, and her dress began to ride up slightly, and she could feel her hair getting heavy, she realized it was not as fun as she thought it might be. Playing a part when no one is really there to watch was no fun at all.

But then Robert _Something _came along. He was wearing an expensive suit, the kinds tailor made to make one look important but not overtly so, and his cologne was neither overpowering nor underwhelming. And when he shook her hand, he looked in her eyes. He was handsome and probably successful, and would likely break her heart if she kept him around a minute longer.

Turning the water off, she hoped he would be gone.

He was not gone when she exited the bathroom, wrapped in one of the large white hotel towels. In fact, he was sitting up in bed, typing on his iPhone, and looking rather comfortable. His head shot up at the sound of the bathroom door and his eyes widened momentarily, before flickering back to a more appropriate size.

"Good morning." His voice was a bit hoarse but he smiled softly, putting his phone down and sitting up straighter. He stood, then likely realized he was not wearing any clothes, and grabbed at a sheet to cover himself.

"Morning," Cora allowed, stepping into the room and gazing down at his sheet wrapped torso. Yes, he was definitely good looking.

Robert sat, albeit awkwardly, back down before attempting a conversation. "Would you like some tea? I did offer to buy you a drink." He chuckled at his own joke, nearly always a bad sign, and looked oddly uncomfortable to still be there.

Which begged the question, why on earth was he still there?

Cora rounded the corner of the bed, grabbing her robe off the hook on the wall along the way. "I don't want tea, but thank you." She frowned at her tone—harsher than she had meant, and took a breath. "What I mean is, I don't really drink tea; I usually have coffee."

She slipped on the robe before letting the towel fall to the floor. Robert's eyes followed the towel, his lips quirked upward and his expression immediately brighter.

"Coffee, then?" He was nothing if not persistent. He stood again and motioned toward the phone. "I can call down for something?"

His face wore the youthful excitement of a little boy hoping to be rewarded. His eyes were bright and his expression animated, as if he could will her to say yes, simply by smiling wide enough. But she did not want tea or coffee and she certainly did not want him in her room anymore. It was time for the night to come to an end.

Shaking her head, slightly but sharply, her movements cold and practiced, she pursed her lips and tilted her head, appraising the situation. "I have a long day ahead," she explained after a pause. "It might be best for you to go." There was no question in her tone, and she walked toward the door, pulling it open to punctuate her suggestion.

Robert sat bewilderedly, feeling his face fall as she spoke. He had no desire for coffee, or tea, but the realization that he was not wanted was rather odd. And even more concerning, her verbatim excuse that he had used far too many times. A long day ahead was his go to escape hatch, the kindness he tried to offer when he knew he would never call again.

And now here it was, staring back at him, and if felt rather terrible.

So he stood and gathered his clothes. An action he suddenly felt quite self-conscious of, as she stood by the door and watched. Pulling on his clothes, he grabbed his phone and glanced around the large room once more, before settling his gaze on Cora. "Maybe we can meet for tea one afternoon this week?" He groaned inwardly at the desperate words, cursing himself for suddenly losing all good sense.

Cora's expression suggested that tea was out of the question. She smiled, though the smile was the false sort he recognized from his parents, and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek. A parting gift, he supposed.

"Maybe," she murmured softly, her gentle tone belying the clear refusal in her eyes.

He accepted the rebuff with as much grace as he could muster, which was rather hard as he was wearing a rumpled suit and reeked of gin, but he did make an attempt. Leaning in once more, he kissed her cheek, just beyond the corner of her mouth. "I had a lovely time." He nodded, confirming his statement, and took his leave.

She watched him go.

It was a long moment before she realized she was still staring at the empty room, her hand locked on the doorknob. And her cheek was tingling, still, in the place his lips had been. It was probably from the alcohol still on him, she mused, finally shutting the bedroom door. He was no different than any other man and why waste a perfectly good holiday on some man whose last name still escaped her?

Though he was rather handsome.

Lying back in bed, she fought the urge to sleep once more. When she curled into the sheets, and was met not by the familiar scent of her perfume, but by the masculine fragrance of Robert's cologne, she had trouble stopping her mind from wandering back to their night together.

Bathed in alcohol and covered in a haze of drink, the memories were fuzzy but still perceptible; like tiny pieces of a puzzle scattered all over the floor.

She remembered their drive back to the hotel, and him making some terrible joke about seatbelts. She remembered him offering a drink, and being surprised when she kissed him instead.

She liked the surprised look on his face.

She remembered him taking her into his arms and lying down on the bed, his hands all over her but his eyes never leaving hers. And when he poured her a drink, after, and pulled her close and told her she was beautiful, she believed him. She looked into his eyes and saw something she did not quite recognize.

It unnerved her.

* * *

Robert exited the hotel and walked down several blocks before his head was clear enough to make any sort of logical plan. She had actually asked him to leave. He knew he was not exactly a celebrity, but in all his life a woman had never asked him to leave as readily as she just had.

It had all gotten out of hand so quickly. What was meant to be a smart business move, had yet again turned into something completely distracting and utterly unrelated to the business. He had not even mentioned the investors meeting and he doubted she was likely to remember his last name, let alone what he did for a living.

He pulled out his phone, desperate to clear his mind and get on with his day.

"_John, meet me in ten minuets?" _

"_Tea is on."_

* * *

And not ten minutes after the text was received, he walked up to John's flat.

"You mean to tell me you spent the entire night over at her hotel and the marketing meeting never came up?" John's expression was incredulous, and his tightened jaw suggested he was teetering on the edge of shouting a few profanities.

Robert only shrugged, determined to put the night out of his mind. If she was not interested, well, it was her loss.

Though, she was rather beautiful.

John's judgmental stare quickly wore him down, so offering another shrug he stood from the table. "I'm sorry, we were occupied last evening…and I didn't have a chance to mention it to her this morning."

"Yeah, I'll bet you were occupied." He chuckled at his friend, letting a flash of amusement cross his face. Robert was often easily distracted by pretty women. This, apparently, was no exception.

"Look, there will be other investors and other opportunities. This doesn't matter. Does it?"

"Can't you ask her when you see her again?"

Robert frowned, sitting back down and taking a long sip of tea, wishing he had something a bit stronger. "I don't think I'll see her again. Apparently she has a very busy schedule."

"Oh come now. You're telling me that you, Robert Crawley, cannot get a girl to have one lunch with you?"

Robert shrugged again, feeling the ineffectual action was beginning to get on his nerves. "Apparently not."

John fished around in his pocket before pulling out his phone. He scrolled through it for a moment and looked back up. "I got her number, this Cora Levinson. A friend of mine works at her hotel and gave it to me. Maybe you've got one last attempt in you?"

"Are you likely to call up a woman who obviously has no interest in you?" Robert replied.

"You were the one who said you'd do anything the save the company. So, I suppose the choice is up to you. I'm sending you the number now; do what you like with it, but don't say I didn't try!" John paused, looking down at his friend with a softer grin. Robert looked like a mess, and was no doubt still trying to figure out why the girl had given him such a quick send off.

"Robert's phone made the familiar _ding_ of a received message, and he looked down to see the number and contact information flash across his screen. "Alright, one more call." He muttered, his mind flashing back to their encounter hours earlier.

She was incredibly beautiful.

John nodded his approval and wandered out of the room to give him some privacy.

Robert toyed with the buttons on his phone for a few seconds, scrolling through old emails and missed calls to delay the inevitable second rebuke. Finally, he pulled the contact information up once more and clicked. Every mountain is un-climbable until someone climbs it, he mused, listening to the torturously slow rings in his ear.

"_Hello?"_ A feminine voice picked up on the other end, and he immediately recognized it as Cora.

"_Hi, Cora? It's Robert—Robert Crawley." _He paused, waiting for a recognition that never came. _"We met…I just left your place a while ago?" _

"_Right, of course. Did you forget something?" _Her tone was hurried, if not a bit curious, and he could hear her pacing on a tile floor, as her shoes were making a distinct clicking sound with each step.

"_No, I didn't forget anything. I was wondering if I could take you out to lunch?" _He paused again, tensing slightly as he waited for the blow.

On the other end of the phone, Cora paused as well. She stopped mid pace in the middle of her sitting room and felt her forehead pull to a frown. What on earth was he getting at? And how had he even gotten her number? She had to admit, though, he was very persistent. A trait she had always admired. She was used to being pursued, but somehow this felt different. It probably wasn't, but she couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps it was.

"_Alright, we can meet for lunch." _She cleared her throat, and thought she heard him sigh with relief when she replied. Resisting the urge to laugh, she waited for him to gather himself on the other end.

"_Perfect. I'll pick you up around one?" _

"_That sounds fine. See you then." _She didn't wait for him to reply, and simply ended the call, throwing her phone onto the bed and looking at it wearily. It was only lunch, she supposed, what harm could come from lunch?


	3. Three

"I'll have the eggs benedict and a glass of water—no lemon, please." Cora smiled warmly at the waiter, passing her menu across the table, and settled back into her seat.

Robert sat quietly, willing himself to remain relaxed. Cora had met him in the lobby of The Savoy. Her white sundress and dark curls had an immediate effect on him, rendering each word he spoke tinged with a boyish nervousness. She was beautiful, and he wondered if she knew how utterly distracting she was.

Upon reaching the restaurant, _The Ivy, _Cora became quiet.

Each attempt at conversation was met with a forced smile, bemused expression or blank stare, as if she had not really been paying any attention at all. The waiter sat them at the coveted table in the middle of the room; the place one sat to be noticed, and the place all others wanted. It had required him to call in a favor, but it was more than worth it, as everyone had been eyeing the couple since the moment they took their seats.

Robert ordered his lunch, and continued to sit, wondering what on earth he said on the way over that had upset her in some way. When she finally looked up from her napkin, he tried once more.

"Hungry?" He smiled, far too widely, and leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on the table.

Cora smiled, taking a sip of her water before responding. "Yes I am." She paused, as if weighing her options before looking up at him once more. "Do you really enjoy eating at places like this?" Her expression was critical, if not slightly amused, and he felt she could see right through his act.

"I—I. Yes, I suppose so, why?"

She smiled again, though this one was much more patronizing than before. "Oh, it's nothing. Don't you feel like you're in a zoo, though? People stare and wonder how much money you have, or what sort of car you might drive. It is the sort of place people will talk endlessly about you as they sip their drinks, never actually caring what your name is."

Cora took another sip of water and shrugged, absentmindedly gazing around the packed dining room once more. Robert blanched under her scrutiny, the truest thing he had heard in quite a long time; a most unnerving assessment of the world in which he resided and a world that grew darker as the months wore on.

"I usually take clients here," he offered, pursing his lips and wishing desperately that he had a drink stronger than water. "Most people like coming somewhere a little exclusive."

"So I am a client, then?" Cora peered at him curiously

Robert hesitated again. What _was _this? Cora wasn't a client, was she? Only an investor, hopefully. And that was a major_ hopefully_. She still had no idea what he did, at least he couldn't remember talking about it. To suggest he was only interested in money would certainly do them no good. She wasn't dumb, and surely did not want to be made to feel like an ATM. If she didn't even like him, surely she would not be interested in investing in the company. He needed to rectify her opinion, and quickly.

"No, of course you're not a client."

"What am I, then?" Robert's eyes were drawn down, as Cora curled her fingers around the stem of her glass. Her eyes were bright as she stared, tapping her other fingers along the edge of the table.

"A friend?" Robert offered. He looked around the room again, and suddenly felt that Cora was indeed correct. Everyone was staring at them, well at Cora, and it was rather like being in a zoo.

"A friend? You don't know anything about me. You might not want to be my friend."

Clearing his throat, Robert felt the lunch slipping away from him. She was sharp, far sharper than any other woman he took to lunch, and with each tilt of her head, he know that she was mentally calculating how much longer she would have to stay so as not to be rude.

"We could be friends. Perhaps more than friends?" This time, Robert sat up; letting his broad shoulders flex backward and offered her his very best smile. When her expression softened almost immediately, Robert knew it had worked.

"I don't need friends," Cora explained, looking over his shoulder as the waiter approached with their meals. "It is often the ones closest to you who will push you the hardest."

"Is that so?" Robert frowned, chewing thoughtfully on a bite of his lunch, hoping she would elaborate.

"Yes, I think so." Cora replied softly. Her eyes were downcast once again, and he could tell she was disinterested in continuing the conversation.

Robert knew it was now or never, for his chance with Cora. He stood, discarding his silverware carelessly on the table, and offered his hand. "Come on, then." He smiled, pleased by her incredulous expression, and waited for her to take his hand.

Cora stood, without question, and took his proffered hand.

"You know, I hate that restaurant," Robert explained conversationally, as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, their hands still entwined. "You're the first person who has ever told me that they hate it too." He held tightly to her hand as they began to walk, letting his fingers lock around hers.

"Then why on earth did you take me there?" Cora laughed for the first time that afternoon, and for once he knew it was not directed at him.

Robert spotted a bench and nodded toward it, reluctantly releasing Cora's hand as they sat. "I thought you would be impressed," he admitted, feeling the increasingly familiar blush creep up his neck. "Honestly, I hate posh places like that. The lavish décor, the expensive food, it's a bit much. I much prefer spending an evening at home. But I wouldn't bring you to my home for lunch. That would be far too presumptuous of me," he added with a mischievous grin.

Cora returned his grin and reached for his hand, letting it settle in hers as she ran her fingers over his palm. "Well I suppose our lunch is over, then," she mused.

"Could I take you somewhere else?" Robert interrupted, gripping her hand a bit tighter.

Cora nodded. "I have a few more hours." She stood, taking his hand with her, and let him lead her down the street.

* * *

They walked for nearly an hour before Robert lead them down a quiet side street, stopping midway down the lane in front of a nameless shop that looked to be crammed full of books.

A little bell rang as they opened the door, and the shopkeeper smiled at them.

"I used to come here all the time, before I went off to university." Robert kept hold of Cora's hand and lead her down the long, tall aisles of books. Mostly tattered used copies of long forgotten authors, every so often a familiar title would pop out and catch her eye.

"So you like to read?" Cora asked, pulling a random book off the shelf and flipping through the pages. She turned to look at him and was surprised by the emotion in his gaze.

"Yeah…yes. I thought about studying literature at school, but it didn't work out." He pursed his lips and frowned, pulling his attention to the book in her hands, and taking it, opening to the first page. "James Joyce," he murmured. "Utterly depressing choice!"

Cora snatched the book out of his hand and rested it back on the shelf. "So you're a literature snob, are you?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Robert replied. Her raised eyebrows amused him endlessly, and he let go of her hand as he scanned the shelves for something more interesting. "What is your favorite book?"

Cora shrugged, her eyes following his hands as he flipped through the stacks of yellowing pages and dust. "I like most of the classics. Jane Austen is my favorite, but I suppose you will tell me that is cliché?"

"Ah, no, that makes perfect sense. Now I understand why you're in London. You're looking for a single man in possession of a good fortune?" He laughed, loudly, at her perturbed grimace and impetuously leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Only joking," he assured.

His kiss surprised her, and her mind immediately flashed back to their night spent together. She smelled his cologne once more, and reflexively leaned into him, wrapping her hand around his shoulder as his lips pressed to the warm skin of her cheek. When he pulled away, a reddish blush colored both their cheeks, and Cora swallowed slowly, feeling her mouth get very parched.

"Well, what is your favorite novel? Since you are clearly a closeted literary critic, I'd be interested to see your choice." Cora watched as Robert's expression shifted to one of boyish mirth, nodding readily and leading her toward the back of the shop.

He crouched down to the very bottom of the last shelf, pulling a small book up with him a moment later. Cora waited for him to elaborate, but instead, he took her arm and led her around the corner, a small alcove with well-worn brown leather chairs and a small settee awaiting them.

"I much prefer reading in a good chair, don't you?" Robert led her to the settee and sat a few inches away, flipping through pages of the small book until he found what he was looking for. He looked up at her, to make sure she was listening, and cleared his throat.

"_A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch_

_And blue spurt of a lighted match,_

_And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,_

_Than the two hearts beating each to each!"_

He paused for effect, before closing the book and looking up to gauge her expression. Her eyes danced with a light he was sure was not there earlier, and she bit her lip in an unsuccessful attempt to mask the emotion on her face.

"What's it from?" She asked, finally, inching closer to him on the couch.

"It's a poem called _Meeting at Night, _which I thought seemed appropriate," Robert chuckled once more and handed her the book to inspect. His hand found its way to her knee as she studied the page, and when her reaction remained steady, he let his hand trail up slightly, leaning in as his voice filled her ear. "Robert Browning. I always liked the last line," he murmured, his hand still traveling up her thigh.

Cora's eyes found his and her hand reached down to still his wandering fingers. He held his breath, waiting for another rebuke but it was her turn to take him by surprise. Tilting her chin upward, she let her lips find his, pressing gently at first, but with increasing pressure.

Neither spoke, except murmured hums of pleasure. Cora's lips were soft and her hands ran over his shoulders, her touch tantalizingly foreign and exciting. He wondered where they would go until his thoughts were completely clouded with the abstract sensation of his body responding to hers.

Chaste kisses turned to something more as Robert's tongue worked its way into Cora's mouth, stroking against hers as his hands began to wander again, slipping beneath the skirt of her dress.

Several minutes passed before Robert became vaguely aware of a vibrating motion. Seemingly aware of it as well, Cora finally pulled away from him, grinning and brushing her hair away from her face.

She leaned forward once more and pressed one last kiss just below his ear, the rough of his cheek meeting her lips. "Either your phone is vibrating, or you're very excited by bookstores," she chuckled, her voice low and coated with desire.

Robert ran his hands through his own hair, smiling guiltily as he reluctantly stood and fished the phone from his pocket, the screen lighting up as it vibrated again. "I'm sorry, I thought I had it on silent…it's work," he explained, taking a step away and looking down.

Three missed text messages, all from John.

_[15:07] Check your email for information re investors meeting _

_[15:09] Is your lunch over? _

_[15:10] Did you get her to agree?_

He often thought it amazing how the business had a way of impeding every aspect of his life. As if it ran through his blood and hid out in the depths of his bones, it was inescapable. Yet again, it had brought reality crashing down much more harshly than he would have liked. And yet again he was reminded of what he was supposed to be doing.

But for once, it was the furthest thing from his mind. Turning to sneak a glance at Cora, who was adjusting her dress, he was not quite ready to face it. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and sat back down, wasting no time before kissing her again and pushing all thoughts of business to the very back of his consciousness.

* * *

"You know I have never been asked to leave a bookstore for indecent activities, before. So thank you for that." Cora laughed loudly and unguardedly as they both stepped onto the outside street once more—both extremely red-faced and busily adjusting their disheveled clothes.

"Well neither have I," Robert argued, hooking his arm around hers. "Let me make it up to you? Unless you have to get back…I know you only said you had a few hours."

"Well, I only said that in case you were going to take me somewhere strange," Cora explained, looking up at him as they walked. Robert only rolled his eyes playfully and nudged her shoulder with his own. "Where are you taking me next?"

"Dinner."

* * *

The late summer sun was still peeking out from behind lazy clouds when Robert and Cora approached their destination. Somewhere in the middle of Belgravia, though Cora really didn't know precisely where, they stopped in front of a large townhouse marked number eight.

The street was manicured, quiet, and lined with well-appointed townhomes. Each house seemed grander than the next, with iron gates and thick wooden doors all looking down onto the road as they passed.

Robert stopped with a nod and brought Cora up the walk toward the front door.

Opening the door, he led her through a well-appointed foyer and into the sitting room; full of carefully coordinated furniture and walls lined with tall bookshelves. She realized, taking a seat, that she had no idea what he did for a living, though he was obviously one of those well-off London residents.

"So this is your house, then?" Cora asked, rather blithely, crossing her legs and observing her surroundings. She fought the urge to say something biting, or suggest that he really only wanted one thing from her, and instead gazed out the window and took in the impressive view.

"Yes, it is." Robert replied, taking the seat across from her and draping his jacket over the arm of the chair. "I thought, since you have some very strong opinions about London restaurants, that I could cook dinner for us."

Cora's arched eyebrows and the smirk pulling at her lips suggested she was rather surprised to learn he could cook. Robert only rolled up his sleeves and wandered to the kitchen, leaving her to follow after him.

Some minutes later, Cora sat perched on a barstool watching raptly as he chopped various herbs and threw them into the hissing pot on the stove, the entire room already smelling of tomato sauce. Uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses, Robert slid one across the countertop toward Cora and continued with his chopping.

Cora was not sure whether it was the wine, the intoxicating smell of dinner, or the handsome man cooking it, that had conspired to lull her into such a relaxed state. For the first time since her plane landed, she felt all the tension seep from her body, leaving her in peace to admire Robert as he wielded the large cooking knife.

The meal did not take a particularly long time to prepare. Robert let her watch the pasta as it boiled and he even let her put the finishing touches on the sauce. He said working in the kitchen was much more fun as a two-person job, and when he poured her a second glass of wine and led her to the dining room, dinner plates in hand, she felt an odd sense of calm.

They chatted quietly about her trip over pasta and wine, often stopping for fits of laughter and exchanged smiles. Robert told her about his adventures in college, and Cora confided that she decided to visit London on a whim because she loved the sound of British accents and heard there was excellent shopping. By the end of the meal, the bottle of wine was long emptied and their plates cleared as well.

Lazily, they made their way into a sitting room toward the back of the house. Painted a rich burgundy color with warm brown leather furniture scattered about the room, quite reminiscent of the bookshop furniture, the room was both cozy and inviting. Cora relaxed into a couch and watched Robert pop a movie into the DVD player before coming to sit beside her, his hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close.

Draped in a blanket found hanging on the edge of the couch, they settled in to watch some laughably horrible comedy that neither particularly liked, but both were more than happy to feign interest in, if it meant lounging on the couch beside one another.

"You know, dinner was delicious. I'm very impressed you know how to cook," Cora murmured a few minutes into the movie.

Her head resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist, Robert somehow felt more comfortable talking about himself when he did not have to maintain constant eye contact. Her presence in the normally empty room was rather nice, and it had been several hours since anything remotely related to work had crossed his mind.

"When I was a little boy I used to go to work with my father most afternoons. He'd usually be busy doing something I had no interest in understanding, so I'd sneak off to the kitchens and watch the chefs cook. I suppose some of it stuck. I'd spend hours in there," Robert mused, letting his hand run up and down Cora's arm in soothing patterns as he spoke. He felt a heat growing in his chest when she pulled herself a bit closer to him, as if asking him to continue.

"What did your father do for work?"

"Hotels. My family owns several hotels in London, and throughout the UK actually. It's been in the family for generations. I took over when my father died last year."

Robert cleared his throat, willing himself to remain emotionless as he thought of it all.

The illness. The funeral. The signing of endless paperwork that left him in charge.

The realization that it was crumbling beneath him.

And now, as Cora shifted and looked up at him, her expression one of genuine sadness and concern, and pressed a kiss to his lips, the reality of it all finally came crashing down on top of him.

"I'm sorry about your father," she whispered, frowning slightly when he didn't return the kiss but instead gazed blankly at the movie. He felt an old familiar sadness creeping into the edge of his mind; the grey that usually tinged his days was suddenly seeping into his night with Cora and he hated himself for being unable to form any meaningful barriers between the business and his life.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and he knew it would be John, wanting to know if he had made any progress with Cora.

He didn't want it to end yet. He wasn't ready for it to end yet.

Not bothering to shut the movie, he turned and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Cora may have been surprised by the quick pace he set, swiftly pressing her back to the couch and pulling his shirt over his head, but she only giggled as his lips trailed down her chest and her legs wrapped around his torso. Soon the sounds of the movie were drowned out by their mutual groans and sighs of pleasure, both seeking something in the other that they knew was probably unattainable.


	4. Four

One night quickly turned to four, and before either realized it, Robert and Cora had spent the week together. Only separating for brief intervals of time, she to go make some calls, or he to check up on emails, they spent most of their time in bed at her hotel room and at his townhouse.

Robert knew he was playing with fire. He knew it was dangerous, what he was doing with Cora. But one look into her eyes could make him forget completely what his original motives were. He didn't want her money. Not anymore, at least. He only wanted her.

It was a strange shift. One that he did not quite understand. No woman had ever had the effect she did on him, and it was rather unnerving. He found himself constantly trying to please her, to make her understand how pleased he was.

But in the back of his mind, he knew it was still a tangled web they needed to extricate themselves from.

After two days with Cora he had turned his phone to the _do not disturb _setting. John had been sending him emails and text messages with alarming frequency, and the last thing he wanted to be reminded of was the investor meeting that John, and apparently the hotel board, expected him to bring Cora to.

He found it easy to forget business and work, at least for a little while, when Cora was around. Any coherent thoughts would quickly slip from his mind when Cora's dark hair brushed against his skin, or her lips pressed against his own.

And so he found himself utterly distracted all week, not bothering to even check so much as the time, until early Friday morning.

Cora was still asleep, pressed to his chest, and he listened to her quiet breathing as he mulled over his plans for the day. It was barely six o'clock but he was already eager get up and ready. Cora never seemed to care what they did, so long as they did it together, but he was very eager to take her out of the city for a while. They had traipsed all over London these past days, and he had begun to forget what it felt like to go out by himself.

He had a surprise planned for her today.

When Cora awoke a short while later, it was to Robert sitting beside her, holding a mug of coffee and smiling expectantly. He had tapped her on the shoulder several times, like an impatient child, before she finally stared up at him groggily.

"Good morning," she murmured, taking the proffered cup. Robert's coffee making abilities had improved considerably as of late. After a late night jaunt to Divertimenti to purchase a coffee maker, she had given him a few lessons. If they were going to continue seeing one another, he needed to know how to make a proper cup of coffee.

Robert only smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek. His own mug, no doubt full of horribly strong tea, was sitting on the bedside table and looked empty. "A very good morning indeed," he replied softly.

He let her take a few sips and adjust to the bright morning sun before sitting up more deliberately; he was too eager to wait any longer. "I have a surprise planned for you," he explained. "Once you finish your coffee, get dressed and meet me in the sitting room." He kissed her once more, only smirking at her brow raised in curiosity, before disappearing into the bathroom to get himself ready.

When Cora met Robert in the front room he was all dressed and ready to go out. She had to admit, as she found herself admitting more freely, he looked very handsome.

He turned to look at her and smiled appreciatively. She looked beautiful. Her dark hair drawn back and her loose summery dress all conspired to make him rather hot under the collar. "Fancy a drive?" He finally managed, shifting slightly and gesturing toward the front door.

Cora smiled, "are you a good driver?" His nod did not exactly reassure her, but she allowed him to take her arm and lead her out the door and down the steps toward the street.

Parked in front of the house was a dark red Bentley. Cora was no expert on cars but it appeared to be some vintage model, and Robert looked extremely pleased as he helped her in.

She tried to minimize her giggles as he slipped on a very official looking pair of driving gloves and turned to her with a satisfied grin. "It was my father's car," he offered, "a 1960 Continental G2."

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I am _very _impressed," Cora drawled, in a mockingly deep American tone. She winked at him for good measure before pulling her sunglasses on and reaching for the radio.

* * *

Four hours and several arguments over song choices later, Robert pulled the car to a stop along a charming, stone cottage lined street.

It was like stepping into one of those features in the New York Times where reporters would travel to far off places and laud some remote village as the next ultimate tourist attraction. It was unlike anything Cora had seen and when Robert hopped out of the car and made his way around to help her out too, she was uncharacteristically lost for words.

"Where are we, again?" She asked, glad to stretch her legs as she stood on the small sidewalk and gazed around. Robert was searching the trunk for something and walked over holding a blanket a few seconds later.

"Boscastle," Robert replied, locking the door and taking her hand. "My parents used to take my sister and I here when we were kids."

"You have a sister?" Cora was too busy looking down the quaint street to look up at him, but she heard him chuckle and he squeezed her hand a bit tighter.

"Yes, I suppose I forgot to mention her—which would just kill her; she loves to be the center of every conversation. Rosamund, she's two years younger than me."

"Rosamund?" Cora asked, finally turning her attention back to him.

"My parents were traditionalists too, apparently."

He mirrored her words from the night at Jalouse, and it caught her rather off guard. How he could even remember that night, she had no idea. It was still a haze of alcohol and brief memories for her—most of which included Robert in very few clothes. Once again she found herself surprised by how attentive he actually was. He listened when she spoke and remembered minute details with relative ease.

They walked arm in arm along the street and Robert pointed out some of his little landmarks to her. There was the place he first learned to ride a bicycle, the little inn where his family would stay each summer, the boats by the harbor he used to sneak down and watch, and even some street corner where he had been stung by a bee and had a horrible reaction.

Each little detail, each tiny piece of his history, endeared him to her more. No man had ever been this sweet with her; no one had ever seemed to fit so perfectly into her life. And after what she had left behind in Newport, well, it was a most welcome surprise.

Their meandering stroll finally brought them out to the edge of town and to one of the more secluded beaches. They continued walking along the shore in quiet contentment for what seemed like hours. It was just approaching fall now, and so most of the beachgoers had already up and left, leaving them to stroll and splash and kiss without anyone watching.

"Would you like to sit for a while?" Robert held up his blanket as they passed a particularly picturesque stretch of beach. As he unwrapped the blanket, he smiled mischievously, also unwrapping a bottle of wine and two small travel glasses as well.

They adjusted themselves on the blanket and sipped wine while chatting about silly things. Cora told him a story about her short-lived time on the equestrian team—which also turned out to be the time she discovered her intense fear of horses—and Robert told her about how he and John once crashed a Halloween party at university, dressed in full military uniforms.

Their conversation was easy and punctuated with desirous glances and stolen kisses. Half a bottle of wine later and they had inched even closer to one another.

Robert closed the final gap and let his hands rest gently on Cora's waist, his fingers playing lazily with the fabric gathered around her hips. Even through her clothes her skin felt soft, and it drove him mad.

Everything she did seemed to drive him nearly mad.

It was all so overwhelming, such sensory overload, that he thought he would never get enough of her; her hands snaking up his back and tugging gently at his hair, how her lips pressed insistently to his own, and how her tongue slipped into his mouth demanding for him to kiss her breathless.

And so he did, of course. He let his lips explore her cheek, her neck, and the delicate jut of her collarbone. His hands worked quickly to keep up and soon slipped beneath her dress, stroking her thighs as they inched higher and higher. His tongue ran over hers, then over her lips, causing her to shudder in his arms and murmur his name in soft whispers.

Cora forgot rather quickly that she was on a beach. Robert's strong arms around her and the taste of alcohol on his tongue made her dizzy with pleasure. She leaned back and let him press her against the blanket, humming softly when his fingers finally curled around the lace of her undergarments.

His lips still locked on her neck, she arched her back instinctually when his fingers crept closer and closer to where she wanted them most, finally tugging down her undergarments and discarding them beside her. She tried to wrap her legs around him, to quicken the pace, but he had none of it and seemed to enjoy toying with her just a bit.

"Robert, please," she murmured, still trying to pull him more deliberately atop her. He smiled against her chest and she felt him finally pull his hands away from her to unbuckle his belt.

He looked over his shoulder quickly, just to make sure they were in fact alone, before settling back beside her and rubbing his palm against her cheek. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

She looked at him through lowered lashes and grasped at his shirt, pulling him close. If anyone ever happened upon them, they'd think them overheated teenagers. She could only imagine how they looked, grasping at each other in the middle of the afternoon, but she didn't care and ceased thinking about it all together when Robert's fingers finally slipped inside her.

He made her writhe with pleasure, made her want to cry out, made her want to never let him leave her sight.

It felt so good, so very good that she almost thought she heard music playing.

Until a second later, pulled out of her reverie, she realized that music was in fact coming out of Robert's trouser pocket.

"Oh, bloody hell," he muttered, pulling his head up and rolling off of her. "I'm sorry, I thought it was off." He pulled his cellphone out and looked down, seeing John's name flash across the screen. "It's just work, I can—"

"No!" Cora interrupted, "take it. Really, it's alright. And then we can…" she smiled, looking down at the blanket.

Robert nodded empathetically and shifted away, standing to take the call.

"_What is it?" He hissed, peeking at Cora who was adjusting her dress. _

"_Robert, where the hell are you? It's nearly two o'clock. The invertors presentation starts at 8, I haven't heard from you all week. I even called your mother!" _

"_I'm out in Cornwall." _

"_What are you doing in Cornwall?" _

"_I'm with Cora." _

"_Who?" _

"_Cora…Levinson." _

"_Jesus Christ. I told you to buy her a drink and get her to come to the meeting. I didn't tell you to take her to the bloody beach for a seaside holiday! Get back here, you need to be at this meeting. And make sure you get her to come, too." _

"_I don't think—"_

"_Robert, don't fuck this up." _

John hung up and left Robert staring angrily down at his phone. It didn't matter how many times he looked over his shoulder to check, he was never really alone. He'd never be free of the business and once again he was reminded of what precisely had first brought he and Cora together.

Cora cleared her throat and looked up at him as he turned back to face her, sitting beside her on the blanket. "I really am sorry. It was nothing, just work."

"No, please don't apologize. Robert, if we're going to keep seeing each other we can't always block the rest of the world out…as tempting as it might be," she grinned, leaning in to kiss him. "Was everything alright at work?"

Robert hesitated. Lying seemed out of the question. But telling her the truth? He was not even sure he knew what it was anymore. "It was—everything is fine. Just this investors meeting later tonight. I was supposed to go, but I really don't think—"

"Oh! No, you should go. Can we get back in time? Robert, I can't have you missing any more work for me." Cora began adjusting her dress again, and looking around for her purse.

Robert knew with unfortunate certainty that the romantic moment of only seconds earlier had passed.

"Cora I'm not missing anything important," he tried to argue, pulling at her hand in an attempt to get her to sit back down.

She pulled her shoes on and tugged him up to stand beside her. Her arms slipped around the back of his neck and she leaned up to kiss him. This time sweeter and less insistent, Cora drew back a moment later and looked up at him imploringly. "Come now, please? I want to be a part of your real life. Not just some vacation dalliance that keeps you from your job. I could even go with you, if you like?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," Robert replied quickly.

Cora looked crestfallen, and immediately let go of him. "You don't want me there."

"It's not that I don't want you there. It's just I—I," Robert sputtered, having no explanation that would appease the hurt expression painted across her face.

"It's fine, I understand if you don't want to introduce me to your friends." She bit her lip and looked down, crouching to gather up the blanket and wine.

"No! I'd love for you to meet them," Robert reached for her once more, turning her to look at him. "I'd love you to meet them," he repeated, kissing her three times in quick succession to prove his words.

* * *

The return trip to London proved far more interesting than Robert anticipated. About half way into the drive back, Cora decided that it would be a fun game, instead of listening to the radio, to describe in detail what precisely she wanted to do to him when they returned to the hotel later that night. She alternated between musing on the best place for them to make love in her hotel room, to letting her fingers creep up his thigh, dangerously close to where he wanted her most.

It was a miracle they didn't veer off the road.

But the managed to make it into the city unscathed, and arrived at the event only five minutes after the official start time.

Cora looked beautiful and it seemed horribly unfair that even with only ten minutes to spare at the hotel before their arrival she still managed to look stunning.

He noticed almost immediately the curious stares of the other guests. Cora held his hand as he weaved through the crowd, seemingly oblivious to their appraising glances, and only squeezed it reassuringly when they finally made it to the other side of the room.

Robert spent the next hour in fine form; moving between potential investors and current clients, he worked the room with ease and made everyone feel welcome. And Cora was an even bigger success than he. Her sense of humor did her credit, and everyone he introduced her to seemed enchanted by the pretty American girl on his arm.

After doing his duty and talking with most of the key people in the room, he lead Cora to a corner in the back, eager to have her to himself again.

He leaned in close and let his lips graze just below her ear. "Do you want a drink?"

Her hand slipped inside his suit jacket and ran up and down his side before resting on his belt buckle, her fingers teasing with feather light touches. "No," she shook her head slowly, "I'm happy right here."

Unable to resist a moment longer, as it had already been far too long, Robert grasped Cora's waist and leaned her back ever so slightly, until they were right against the wall. He said a silent thanks to the mindless people already half drunk on the free liquor, as it gave him free reign to be with Cora instead of talking business.

* * *

John eyed them from across the room; amused that Robert seemed so committed to his plan and concerned at his utter lack of restraint. Another minute and he'd have to go over there himself to break up the private party.

He heard someone call his name from behind, interrupting his thoughts. He recognized the voice immediately and turned with a smile, holding out his hand. "Richard! So glad you could make it." He nodded kindly at the man and offered him a drink. "How's the magazine?"

Richard took a long pull of his drink and scanned the room. "News never sleeps, as you know. Where's Crawley?" He turned back to John curiously.

Laughing he nodded across the room. "Over there."

Both men looked to see Robert and Cora still pressed up against the back wall, though Cora's leg had made its way up the back of Robert's since the last time John had peered over.

"Who's he, uh, entertaining over there?" Richard asked.

"Cora Levinson, some American. Loaded, apparently. I told Robert to get her to the meeting and he seems to have taken his assignment very seriously." John laughed once more in amusement. He didn't really care whether Robert mixed business with pleasure. And as long as he got the Levinson girl to invest, who cared what he did with his free time? He did want his friend to be happy, after all. And it looked like he was going to get a new investor and a good time, while he was at it.

* * *

A few drinks and rounds of conversation later, John found Robert sitting at the bar looking rather pleased.

"Where's your friend?" He asked, sitting beside Robert.

Robert grinned and pointed toward the door. "She had to go freshen up."

"I'll bet she did." John chuckled and motioned for the bartender. "So I suppose I should assume she is the reason you've not been answering any of my calls?"

"Yes, well…" Robert frowned and looked toward the door, half wishing Cora would return quickly just so John could meet her. If he met her, he would understand. Understand how quickly he was falling for someone he didn't know very well, and how entranced he was by the sound of her voice and the smell of her perfume.

"Christ, are you actually sleeping with her? I didn't want you to peddle yourself just to get another investor…is she any good?" John laughed once more and nodded as the bartender passed him a drink. "Well done. She's gorgeous. Much prettier than Ja—"

Robert frowned more pronouncedly and looked at his friend, interrupting him mid sentence. "Don't say things like that about her." He reached for his own drink and took a breath. "It's not like that. I'm not going to involve her in the business."

"You're not going to involve her? Then what is she doing here?" John looked incredulous, unwilling to believe Robert could be insane enough to pass up an opportunity like this.

"She is here as my date," he explained coolly. "I won't have her involved. Not anymore."

"But, Robert—"

"No! Don't bring it up ever again, alright?"

John nodded slowly, staring at his friend.

Robert was playing with fire, that much he knew. But as he watched John excuse himself and wander out into the crowd, he only felt relief that he would soon be alone with Cora once more.

* * *

After Robert had sufficiently schmoozed the guests and given a brief toast in thanks for their attendance, he ushered Cora out of the party and into the waiting car.

Similar to their first night together, her hands were all over him in an instant, loosening his tie and slipping beneath the starched fabric of his dress shirt. Her fingers were cool from the night air and made him shiver when they ran over his chest, grazing his nipples. She only chuckled lowly at his wince, and shifted closer, rubbing her hands together in jest before reaching back to him.

They made it back to the hotel in what seemed like record time, though Cora had already made quick work of removing Robert's tie and jacket. He gathered his things from the floor of the car as their driver opened the door, letting Cora exit first as she flashed him a cheeky grin.

Finally back in the hotel suite, Robert and Cora kicked their shoes off and collapsed into bed. Still wearing her mischievous grin from the car ride back, Cora started unbuttoning Robert's shirt once more.

"Now who is going to help you undress when I go home?" Her voice was soft and full of mirth, but he could see her expression held back much more. Her fingers stroked lightly over his chest as she worked her way down the row of buttons before looking up at him questioningly.

Robert smiled and kissed her forehead. "Well we don't have to worry about that now, do we?"

Cora frowned but continued undoing buttons until she reached the last, stilling her hand at the bottom of his shirt. "Well I had only planned to stay another week."

Robert was not one to make hasty decisions. He often vacillated between options for weeks on end, terribly afraid of what would happen if he made the wrong call. He had no idea where things with Cora were going. But he did know with startling clarity that he absolutely did not want her to leave London any time soon. He reached for her hands and held them in his own, letting his thumbs stroke over her palms. "I don't want you to leave," he murmured, moving his hands to cup her face.

"Robert," she replied softly, her hands lifting to cover his, "what are we doing here?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his gaze fixed on her. "But I know that I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here…with me. We can make it work, I know we can."

Her eyes full of emotion and her lips pursed tightly, Cora wrapped her arms around him and held him close. There were so many reasons for her to go home and only one for her to stay. She had a life back home, a life she had abandoned on a whim.

People often lived to regret impetuous decisions and affairs, but looking at Robert she knew she had no other choice. She couldn't leave, not now. How could she ever live to regret something that felt so right?

Wordlessly, Cora lifted her dress up over her head and settled into bed as Robert did the same, quickly covering her body with his own.

His murmured adorations and gentle kisses only shored up her decision and helped her to push all thoughts of her life at home far out of her mind.

Lying in bed hours after, Robert sleeping and holding her in his arms, Cora knew she only wanted to be there.

She only wanted him.

* * *

Come morning, Cora woke with a renewed excitement. The trip had turned out to be just wonderful, but knowing that Robert wanted her to stay? Well that was the most wonderful thing of all.

She looked down at his sweet, relaxed expression as he slept and decided that for once she could be the one to bring him some tea and breakfast.

She crawled out of bed, not before kissing him softly on the cheek, and wandered out to the living room wearing only his discarded dress shirt to call down to the front desk.

Soon after her call she returned to the bedroom with a tray piled with tea, coffee, croissants, fruit and even the morning paper. Rather impressed with herself, Cora hopped back into bed and set the tray in front of her. She looked to Robert, ready to wake him with her surprise, but he looked utterly adorable, curled up beside her. And wrapped in his shirt, she could smell his cologne. She couldn't remember feeling this happy.

Resolving to have a cup of coffee before waking him, Cora settled back into bed and reached for the paper. Rifling through it, she pulled out the entertainment section and left the rest for Robert.

She managed to have one sip of coffee.

One sip before her eyes scanned down the front page and a wave of nausea rushed over her, unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her fingers trembled and she felt her grip on the coffee cup loosen, listening to it crash to the floor beside the bed.

She dropped the paper and nearly jumped out of bed for the bathroom, knowing she was about to be sick. She let out a low strangled sound that was almost a scream before slamming the door behind her.

At the sound of her voice, Robert was startled out of his peaceful slumber.

It took him less time than it had for Cora to see the photo splashed across the page.

A grainy photo of two people locked in a heated embrace.

A photo of he and Cora locked in a heated embrace from the event last night.

A photo graced with the caption-

"_Hotelier Robert Crawley slips out of financial ruin by slipping into American heiress."_


	5. Five

_A/N: I'm having such SadCora feels right now, guys. You're all such darlings for leaving reviews and following the story, I wanted to post this update a little quicker than usual!_

* * *

Robert was lucky to make it out of Cora's hotel suite without being struck by a flying object. He didn't read it through the entire article but had read enough to know that they would not be having a peaceful breakfast.

"_Robert Crawley of Grantham Property Management has found a new way to procure investors for his business—a business rumored to be financially unstable ever since the death of his father, Patrick Crawley. The young hotelier was seen getting cozy with Levinson & Co. heiress Cora Levinson at an event last night in London…"_

"…_Inside sources tell us Crawley has spent the last several days holed up at Levinson's hotel, doing far more than going over investment paperwork. This comes only five months after a very public split with Janette 'Jane' Moorsum…" _

"…_Levinson, our source tells us, has no prior knowledge of or connection to the fledgling business she is now poised to save. No word on whether Crawley and Levinson plan to announce their agreement publically, whether it be personal or business related." _

He stumbled out of bed and knocked repeatedly on the bathroom door but was only met with various profanities and unintelligible shouts. His knuckles were bright red and throbbing by the time she finally did open the door, not giving him nearly enough time to react before hurling a bottle of lotion at him.

Her eyes were wild with an anger he did not expect. She tore past him and grabbed at the paper on the bed, thrusting it at his chest. "Is any of this true?" Her tone was strained and angry but he could see in her eyes how desperately she wanted him to say no.

And she did, so very desperately, want him to say no; she wanted him to assure her that it was all lies, that they had somehow gotten hold of a terribly incorrect rumor. But the look in his eyes and the slight hunch of his shoulder told what she never, ever wanted to know.

Robert clutched at the paper and let it drop to the floor. He watched it fall before raising his eyes to meet her stare. "I—Cora, please let me explain," he began.

"—Either it is true or it is not. Is it a mistake? Robert…tell me it's a mistake!" She stepped closer and reached for him, pulling them together. His bare skin was flushed and felt uncomfortably warm against her. And she could feel his hands shaking when she took them into hers.

"Cora, I never wanted…I never intended for you to get hurt." He groaned inwardly at his trite words and his failure to stop the situation from spiraling out of control. "It's complicated, I just—I need to explain."

As quickly as she pulled him to her, Cora pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him back. She clawed at his dress shirt still loosely wrapped around her until it slipped off her slight frame. "There is nothing to explain, obviously there is absolutely nothing to explain! All you wanted from me was money!" She balled up the shirt and threw it at him before rushing back into the bathroom.

The slam of the door made him jump and it took a few seconds before he could look up from the shirt and discarded paper on the floor and turn his attention to Cora.

"Cora, please, not all of that is true!" His voice sounded utterly pathetic, murmured against the wooden door separating them. "Just give me a chance to—"

He was interrupted by a smack of her hand against the door, jolting him out of his harried explanations.

"_Get out_. Get out, take your things, and don't come back," she shouted tearfully through the door.

Robert tried several more times to coax her out of the washroom but was largely unsuccessful. His pleas were drowned out by the sound of her sobbing and then of the shower running. She said nothing beyond _get out_ and refused him any more words.

Bewildered, Robert gathered up his things and pulled on his rumpled suit from the night before. It still smelled of her perfume and it made him want to break down the door and kneel at her feet until she gave in. But she had made her choice. She locked him out instead of listening to one word of his ill-constructed explanation.

She believed the papers, apparently, and there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. It didn't matter that he wanted her as far from the business as possible.

It didn't matter that he was falling for her.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk in front of The Savoy, Robert was met with the aggressive flashes of several newspaper photographers eager to see him walk shamefully from her suite. They seemed to revel in his misery and snapped as much evidence as they could before he ducked down a side street.

He heard the muffled ring of his phone from deep in his pocked just as he lost the last photographer. Not bothering to even look at the caller ID, desperately hoping it was Cora, Robert grabbed at the phone and answered.

"_Cora?"_

"_Sorry, no. Mr. Crawley, it's Elsie."_

_Robert cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. "Elsie. Hi. What can I do for you?" _

"_Your mother would like to see you. She's here at the office."_

"_Could you tell her I'm rather busy at the—"_

"—_She says she'll wait." _

"_I'll be there in fifteen minutes."_

* * *

When the elevator _dinged_ open at the tenth floor, Robert wished so very much that it was all a horrible dream. But when he stepped out and saw Elsie approaching with a grim look, he knew that things were just a horrible mess.

"Mr. Crawley…"

Elsie smiled sadly at him and nodded toward his mother's office. She had worked for his father for over twenty years as the office manager. Her husband Charlie happened to be the building manager and Robert had grown up with the two of them as a constant presence. They were warmer than his parents and had always offered him advice and a kind word when no one else did.

There would be no kind words from his mother.

She was sitting at her desk engrossed in the morning paper when he approached. She lowered it just enough so that she could eye him wearily over the top for what seemed a very long moment. When she folded it and stared at him more completely he had a strong urge to turn and run.

"Mama, I—"

"Sit, Robert."

Always more obedient to his mother than he liked, Robert sat before her and folded his hands into his lap. A mirror image of his childhood, he sat waiting for a scolding and hoped that she would let him at least try to explain more than Cora had.

"Robert, your father and I ran this company for many decades. And for many decades we managed to maintain a pristine reputation among our colleagues. Our private family matters have never before served as fodder for public consumption." She paused and narrowed her eyes, watching her fidgeting son with a mixture of pity and annoyance. He never could sit still.

"Mama, I know this," he interrupted, shifting forward in his seat. "You don't understand. You don't—the papers have it all wrong!"

"Is that you in the photo, Robert?"

"…Yes, but—"

"And is the woman in the photo a Miss Cora Levinson from New York?"

"Yes, the photo is of Cora and I, but—"

"And tell me, did you or did you not originally seek out this woman as a means for securing capital? As an investor for the company? Because I've spoken to Bates and he tells me—"

"—No! Mama, please. I don't know what Bates has told you but it isn't like that. Not anymore. When I met Cora, yes, I intended to pursue her as a potential investor. But as soon as I spent some time with her I knew that I needed to change my plans; I don't want her money. I only want her." Robert reddened at his declaration of feelings and looked down at his hands. He could feel his mother rolling her eyes and braced himself for another lecture.

"Robert dear, I don't mean to sound harsh."

"You may not mean to, but I bet you will," Robert contended, finally looking back to his mother's darkened expression.

"Don't you care about the business?" She looked at him with pity, sitting there in a rumpled suit and with what looked like traces of red lipstick at the base of his neck. It was utterly unacceptable.

"What do you think? Of course I do. I've spent my entire life doing what is best for the business. You and Papa, you never gave me any other choice. I claim no career beyond the nurture of this bloody business!" He spat, frowning angrily. It was all too much to deal with, no one understood; no one _wanted _to understand his position.

"—Robert, you've put everything we've worked for into jeopardy. Our financial stability is being questioned and the competition will soon start swimming around like sharks that smell blood. Now that every sordid detail is splashed in the papers, we must clean it up." Violet paused again and reached into her desk, pulling out a small stack of papers and nudging them across the desk toward her son.

"What do you want me to do, Mama?" He glanced down at the papers; not bothering to read the tiny print that would likely force him to do something he had no interest in actually doing.

"I want you to sign these press releases saying that you have no interest in Cora Levinson, personally or professionally. That the photo was taken in a moment of youthful indiscretion and you have no plans to take on any new foreign investors." She pushed the papers closer to him and held out an expensive looking fountain pen.

Robert took the proffered pen and scanned the papers.

One signature and he would be free of the whole scandal.

Free from the prying eyes of the press and free of judgment.

And free from Cora.

It took him roughly two seconds to make a decision.

"I won't sign these, Mama." He placed the pen carefully atop the papers and slid them back toward her.

Violet sighed, collecting herself, and made no effort to take the papers back. She only looked down at them and then up at her son; her son who had been thrust into a position of power at such a young age. Her son who looked so very sad sitting there before her. But her son who nevertheless had a duty to his family and to the business and life he had been born into.

"Robert, I cannot have our name dragged through the mud and I most certainly cannot have that American girl involved in our business."

"Why? What ever is wrong with Cora? You don't even know her!" Robert narrowed his gaze and drew his brows together.

Violet was surprised at the speed with which he defended her. It was a trait she had never seen her son display with anyone else. Not that it made her feel any differently, of course.

He could not be so mindless as to put them all in jeopardy.

"I didn't run this company for thirty years to see it go, lock-stock-and barrel, to a stranger from god knows where," Violet hissed, standing from her seat and pushing the papers back toward her son. "Sign, Robert. Sign the papers and let us be done with it."

Robert jumped up from his seat, away from the papers, and began pacing. Running his fingers through his hair, he wished he had a drink; he needed something to calm him.

He wished more than anything that Cora were there.

"I won't sign these, Mama. I will not do it." Picking up his suit jacket, Robert slipped it on and turned for the door. He never looked back but heard his mother's last shout echo all the way down the hall.

"_I always thought this family might be approaching disillusion, I didn't know disillusion was already upon us!"_

* * *

Cora sat on her bed staring down at her phone.

She thought for sure Robert would have called by now.

Two hours had passed and the only calls she'd ignored were from her mother. Judging by the frantic text messages and voicemails from various members of her mother's staff, Martha had in fact been told about the media firestorm and was not pleased about her eldest child's exploits.

She didn't want him to call, not really. It would be a waste of her time to have to ignore his calls too.

But still. It had been two hours since he left, the longest they'd gone without talking, and he seemed to have already forgotten her.

It was all about the money. All he wanted from her was money. All men ever wanted from her was money.

She felt foolish, sitting there in her robe, staring down at her phone. Of course it had been about the money. Why would English men be any different than the one she left behind in America? Just because he had an accent and a penchant for opening doors for her didn't mean that Robert Crawley was any better.

She wondered if perhaps it was her? Perhaps she attracted the sort of man who held her close and whispered kind things into her ear only to be reaching behind her back and into her purse the entire time.

"_I want you to stay."_

"_We can make it work."_

His words from the previous night were still floating around in her mind, mocking her as they repeated themselves in his gentle voice. When she looked into his eyes and he said those things, he made it seem like he only wanted her. Why waste so much time building up the illusion only to be so careless and let it come crashing down?

Her phone buzzed angrily yet again, interrupting her musings.

Grabbing it only to see her mother's picture flash across the screen again, she nearly threw it against the wall. Martha was nothing if not persistent. Cora took a deep breath to fortify herself for the coming ordeal and pressed the accept button.

"_Cora!" Her mother shouted, not waiting for any sort of greeting._

"_Good morning, Mother. You're up early." _

"_Good Lord, Cora. You've got the publicist pulling her damn hair out over here. What on earth were you thinking, falling for some stupid trick like this?" _

Her mother's words burned, as much as she tried not to take them to heart. And as much as she hated to admit it, she had fallen for a stupid trick again. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped at her eyes.

"_I don't know what you read, Mother, but I'm sure it's an exaggerated account." _

"_Cora Levinson, don't sit there and lie to my face—"_

"_I can't see your face, Mother." Cora interrupted, rolling her eyes and once again contemplating hurling her phone at the wall._

"_Cora! This is not a joking matter. I want you back on a plane to New York by tonight."_

"_No, you don't understand—"_

"_That is you in the photo is it not?"_

"_Yes."  
_

"_And this boy wants money from you." _

"_Yes—no. I don't…you don't understand what happened!" _

"_Cora you know I was not happy with what I woke up to—and I mean all of it. I want you back in New York. This little vacation is over."_

"_I'm not coming back, Mother. I won't do it!" _

"_Cora this is not some game, this is your life—" _

"—_Goodbye, Mother. I'll speak to you soon."_

Cora turned her phone off and set it onto the bedside table. She slipped under the covers, wishing so much that she would wake up from the terrible dream she seemed to be having. Robert's side of the bed still smelled of his cologne and so she curled around his pillow and closed her eyes.

She could face it all with just a little more sleep.

* * *

Robert turned the key into his door and was met by a dark, empty hall. The house was pitch black, save for the car lights passing by on the street, and felt incredibly cold. He had been home only yesterday but that was with Cora. It wasn't the same anymore. Nothing was the same.

He dropped his things by the entryway and grabbed the mail that had fallen through the slot. Not bothering to rifle through it, he wandered to the bedroom instead. He needed some rest, some sleep to recharge his mind.

It was all such a horrible blur. After leaving The Savoy and meeting with his mother the only thing that seemed a remotely safe option was going to Rosamund's.

He spent the day using one of her spare bedrooms to convalesce.

Mostly he spent the day drinking a bottle of her scotch and staring at his phone in the hopes that Cora might call. He finished the bottle but she never called.

She hadn't given him a chance to explain, he thought angrily as he tossed the mail on his bed and began undressing. She jumped to the most horrible conclusion about his motives, though they were technically correct, and didn't even let him explain his side of the story. No, she had thrown things at him and kicked him out.

Robert left his suit on the floor and kicked it to the corner of the room. He didn't want to deal with it—it still smelled of Cora's perfume; the scent had followed him around all day.

Once he settled into bed he reached for the mail and poked through the first few pieces. There didn't seem to be anything of importance and he almost tossed it all onto the floor but a larger envelope caught his eye.

It wasn't post marked and looked as though someone had just dropped it off themselves. It was addressed to him, though, and so he tore at it curiously.

The heading of the stationary made his chest constrict painfully. It read: _Levinson & Co. _in flourishing script. The message below it was typed and he scanned down the page to see the signature before reading the note in its entirety.

_Dearest Robert,_

_It's nearly one o'clock in the morning and you happen to be asleep beside me so I am trying to type this very quickly. I suppose I could have left the room to do it but I couldn't bear to wake you. _

_I want you to know how wonderful these past days have been for me. I never intended on finding this, I never thought my trip would be anything more than shopping trips and tables for one. But then I met you and now everything seems so very different._

_You make me so happy, Robert Crawley. And I know you only asked me about an hour ago, but I already have an answer. Yes, I want to stay. And I think we can make this work. I really do. _

_But, that really isn't why I'm typing out a message on my phone when I could be sleeping next to you. It's something else entirely. You see, when I watched you earlier at the business event I saw how much you love your work and how committed you are to it. I was so impressed with you and how you dealt with each client you spoke to. I don't know much about business and God knows I know even less about investing, but when I heard you speak…I just thought this seemed right. _

_I've instructed an associate from the London Branch of my family's company to courier some preliminary paperwork to your house, along with this note first thing in the morning. I hope you don't think me terribly forward, looking to invest in your company, but I think we would make a very good team. _

_We can discuss it all tomorrow after what I can only imagine will be another perfect day._

_Yours,_

_Cora_


	6. Six

_A/N: So this is the part where I say "please don't throw things at me." And then I duck for cover ;)_

_Thanks to my most awesome beta, Krisnreine. _

* * *

After reading Cora's letter several times, and flipping through the enclosed paperwork, Robert was absolutely sure of one thing among a thousand uncertainties.

He was an idiot. A bloody idiot.

The papers were strewn across the bed and though he was still having trouble making sense of it all with his lingering intoxication he began to realize how utterly ridiculous he'd been acting. Not only had he spent much of the day drinking at Rosamund's like a petulant child, he never once considered that perhaps it was Cora's feelings who should be considered.

The single thought running through his mind had been that no one understood. Well, he didn't understand either, apparently. He'd spent the entire week with Cora, never leaving her side for more than a few minutes. No one was that good an actor, and he certainly wasn't. She obviously had some reason to believe the papers over him, and some reason for her frightful reaction—some reason that really didn't have all that much to do with him. It was horrible, what happened, but they'd both lived similar lives under the scrutiny of the press; perhaps if he gave it just a minute of thought, he'd have understood her anger.

He grabbed for his phone and dialed her number, frowning when it went to straight to voicemail.

It was only after calling her 14 more times and leaving three voicemails that he realized she perhaps had no interest in speaking to him.

Yet again she befuddled him. It had been almost an entire day; didn't she want to at least hear him out? Or, yell at him again? She was unlike the countless other women he had dated, chastising him for not calling on sending him an endless string of text messages.

Her silence unnerved him.

He fell asleep in bed, surrounded by the paperwork and clutching his phone.

* * *

Come morning Robert awoke with a pounding headache and the vague feeling that it was going to be another horrible day. His eyes burned when he finally cracked them open and reached for his phone again. There were three missed calls-

One from his mother, suggesting that he stop behaving like a child and come back to the office and two from Rosamund who wanted to know why there were reporters outside her flat and if he planned on replacing her empty bottle of scotch.

Nothing from Cora. Not even a passive aggressive text message. Nothing.

For all he knew, she was already half way back to New York by now.

Rolling over to check the clock proved an embarrassingly difficult task and only further served to prove his pathetic state when he saw that it was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon.

After a fair amount of effort and copious amounts of coffee, which he found did actually cure a hangover more quickly than tea, he set out to do something more productive than nothing. He left the apartment smelling of the coffee Cora had bought and turned down the street in the direction of The Savoy.

If she refused to take his calls he would simply go to see her. She couldn't shut him out forever; she had to listen to him at some point.

* * *

The hotel desk clerk smiled kindly at him upon informing him that Miss Levinson was not in. Whether she was actually out or was simply not willing to see him, he really had no idea. He pleaded rather lamely with the young woman but received absolutely no information. She was only doing her job, of course, but he found the blockade a rather annoying inconvenience.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" He attempted a final plea, looking down at the woman before him and smiling his most charming smile.

"Anna, sir. And I am sorry that I cannot be of more help, but as I said—Miss Levinson is unavailable." She smiled at him again and did seem genuinely sorry for her inability to say something useful. She reached down under the desk and held out a pen and some paper. "If you'd like to leave a note, sir, I could have it left for her?"

Robert nodded and reached for the paper, staring down at the blank page and wondering what words would sway her; what might make her look at him like she had before. He scribbled a short note and left it at the desk, guessing it would likely end up in the wastebasket before she ever saw it.

Robert considered making the lengthy walk back to his house but the prospect of it being empty seemed too harsh a blow. And after Rosamund's perturbed voice messages about her empty bottles of liquor he decided her flat was off limits as well.

Perhaps it was time to go back to work after all. The dream he'd been living appeared to be over and it was time to face facts and get back to real life.

* * *

He spent a few hours at his desk returning emails and fielding calls from the press. Questions all centering on his "arrangement" with a Miss Cora Levinson. He began to understand why his mother was so angry at him; after having to deal with it on his own for even a short time he was rather sick of it all. The probing, personal questions they asked were insensitive and made him wonder how Cora was doing with the whole fiasco.

He hoped she wasn't alone and that at the very least the press were bothering her less than they were him. He checked his phone once more and felt a wave of dashed hope when there was still no word from her.

Robert worked well past the four o'clock hour when he usually called it a day. Only after his last email was answered did he pick up his things and head for the front office. He thought about stopping in to talk to John before remembering that Elsie said he had called out for the day so that he could go directly to some of the papers and do some damage control. It didn't matter anyway—John was really the last person he wanted to see.

He knew John likely hadn't meant any harm, but he had begun to consider that the inside source the paper cited was in fact his friend and Marketing Manager. He was the only one who knew about the original plan, the one who devised it, in fact. He would argue that he was doing something noble for the company, doing what had to be done to keep Robert focused on the business instead of Cora. Or maybe he hadn't meant to say anything at all. Perhaps it slipped out in conversation and grew from there.

It really didn't matter how it all unraveled. All that mattered was that the story was out there now, and that Cora was still not speaking to him.

* * *

Robert trudged all the way home and collapsed on the sofa in the front sitting room. The first room he had shown Cora, he remembered her sitting by the window and peeking out onto the street. He draped his jacket and paperwork on the now empty seat and pulled his phone out once more, confirming that there were still no new messages.

He shot off a quick text message to Rosamund; apologizing for the scotch and mess he left behind, he told her to stop by for a drink so he could debrief her before Mama got to her. She didn't answer and he began to think all the women in his life were simply conspiring against him.

Resolving to stop by Cora's hotel again in the morning, Robert poured himself a drink and relaxed into the leather of the settee. After two drinks and spending a fair amount of time feeling sorry for himself, he dozed into a fitful sleep.

A sharp knock on his front door jolted him awake some time later.

Hopping up from his seat and not bothering to pick up the glass that was thrown onto the floor, he checked his clothes and quickly ran his hands through his hair before running over to answer the persistent knocks. He didn't dare hope that it was Cora; though even the briefest consideration that it could be her made him grin widely.

He was still grinning when he swung open the front door, but his grin faded when he saw not Cora's face but a face from his past that he rather wished was not suddenly before him.

"Jane." He breathed her name out along with his deflated hopes, staring at the woman before him and wondering what he had been thinking all those months ago. She did not come close to Cora in any respect and just looking at her, all he could think of was who he wished were there in her place.

She seemed undeterred by his frown and took a step closer, holding out a bottle of wine. "I saw the papers this morning and thought you might need some company. I brought your favorite cabernet," she added with a slight grin.

"I don't think now is a good time, Jane," he began, stumbling for polite words.

"Oh come now, Robert. You shouldn't be left to wallow all by yourself. Can't two old friends have a drink?" She inched closer, forcing him to take a step backward into the hallway.

"We're not friends, Jane, we're—"

She took a final step to close the gap between them and looked up at him. "I hate to hear you talk like that," she murmured, her hand curling around his wrist.

Robert looked down at her hand but made no movement to stop her. Everything felt wrong, so very wrong, but the way she looked at him—maybe she could understand his side of everything.

"I wish you knew how much I wanted to help, Robert," her voice was even softer now and her thumb was brushing back and forth against his wrist.

Still rooted to the floor, Robert hesitated but nodded slowly at her words. "Do you?" She was the first one to offer help all day, the first one to consider his feelings and how utterly alone he suddenly felt. And she was the only one there.

"I think you know I do." She held up the bottle of wine once more and looked over his shoulder, gesturing to the sitting room inside. Robert reached out to take her hand, leading her inside.

Robert uncorked the wine and watched as Jane perused his bookshelves, then slipped her coat off and threw it across an empty chair. Looking at him she smiled and held her empty glass out for him to pour.

"It's been a long time," she mused, sitting down and taking a sip. She patted the seat beside her, making Robert feel as though he ought to sit beside her. And so he did.

"Yes, it has. But, Jane, I—I'm not sure what you're doing here."

She smiled, amused by his oblivious nature and set her wine glass on the table before them. "I told you I wanted to help…I miss you," she whispered, reaching up and letting her fingers graze his cheek.

Robert jerked away this time and he caught a note of surprise in her expression. "I'm sorry, I just—this isn't right, Jane." He stood and began to pace, wondering how on earth his life had seemingly gone over a cliff in the course of a single day.

She stood and reached for his hands, pulling them up to her face as she held tightly to his wrists. "I want to be with you, _let me." _She said nothing more but laughed softly at his surprise and smiled, tilting her head up to press her lips to his.

For a second Robert froze, unsure of whether to push her away or simply jump backward. But then her lips moved against his and somehow that made it easier to pretend that everything was alright again. She wanted him, that much was clear, and did not seem to care about his massive mistakes or the trouble he had gotten himself into over the day. So he didn't back away and instead grabbed at her waist to pull her closer to him.

That was when it hit him, the smell of her perfume.

She had always worn an oddly strong floral scent from some organic boutique. It made sense, as she was the owner of a popular new organic cleaning supply company, but it had always given him such a headache. It wasn't the strong scent that offended him this time, though; it was the realization that it was not Cora's perfume.

It wasn't Cora in his arms.

He stumbled a few steps backward and looked bewilderedly at the woman before him. It wasn't the same, not anymore. Finding a replacement for what he really wanted would never be good enough. He wanted Cora, and as he took a few more steps back he realized how horrible her absence actually felt.

Jane was still eyeing him curiously a second later when another knock at the door interrupted their uncomfortable silence.

"—It's my sister," he explained, squeezing his eyes shut in aggravation, remembering his message to her. "I invited her over earlier, I completely forgot that she might stop by," he mumbled in explanation, turning out of the room and down the hall.

Rosamund often had bad timing but he was going to have to thank her for this particular occasion, for he could not think of a quicker or better way to get Jane out of the house without causing some sort of scene.

He opened the door with a slight grin but felt his expression twist to one of shock when he came face to face with Cora, standing before him looking up at him with bright eyes.

She didn't wait for any greeting and instead threw her arms around him. "Oh, Robert," she murmured, pressing her face against his shoulder.

His arms tightened around her and he breathed in the familiar scent of her hair and perfume. Both their bodies relaxed into each other and Robert kissed her forehead, her cheeks and her lips, grasping at her and holding her as close as he possibly could.

"I missed you so much," his voice faltered, looking down into her eyes.

She nodded in agreement and leaned up to kiss him, capturing his lips in a passionate embrace. "I got your note," she murmured finally, pulling away and reaching for his hands. "I was going to call but then I thought I'd just—"

Robert smiled and nodded pleased that she had in fact received his harried message from the desk manager. But midway through her sentence he felt her body tense against him and he watched with horror as her gaze went past him and down the hall.

He heard footsteps behind him and silently wished to be struck dead right then and there.

"Robert…?" Jane's shrill voice cut through him and he watched Cora recoil, wide eyed with shock.

He turned slightly to see her leaning out the doorway of the sitting room, clutching her wine glass and looking skeptically at he and Cora. She frowned at Cora and stepped out more fully into the hall.

"Damn it," Robert muttered, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. He felt Cora trying to work her fingers out of his grasp, but he wasn't letting go—not this time. "Cora, this is Janette, we used to—" He tried to remain calm but Cora snapped her hand away and looked at him as though he had punched her in the stomach.

"Clearly you're busy, I should have called," she said slowly, looking at Jane and back to him again. "I'm going to go now…" She pulled her jacket around her more snugly and turned to leave.

Robert watched her go down the first step before reaching out for her reflexively and catching her hand. "No! Please, Cora. _Please_ don't go."


	7. Seven

The sharp tone of Robert's voice surprised Cora and she did stop momentarily, looking up at him incredulously.

She was right, he was nothing like the men back at home, for they wouldn't bother trying to trick her into staying when they already had some other woman drinking wine in their house! She considered slapping him, but that just seemed overly dramatic. She was already standing on his townhouse steps, nearing tears, as another woman looked on with a rather self satisfied smirk. She didn't need to put on a show for anyone.

She couldn't bring herself to say anything else. Looking up into Robert's eyes she could see Robert, the Robert she thought she knew, but it just made no sense. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be sitting in a dark room crying about losing her, not talking and laughing with his ex girlfriend over drinks.

It made her stomach turn, looking at them standing there. She stood frozen at the bottom of his stairs watching as the woman approached him from behind and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned around much quicker than she expected and muttered something under his breath that she couldn't quite make out. What she did hear him say was "I'd like you to go," followed by oddly strained laughter from the woman in response.

Just as she turned around one last time, ready to run back to her hotel as quickly as she could, she heard him shout, "It won't ever be you!" Followed by some horribly unladylike profanities from the woman. A slamming door came next and that was the last sound she heard before she was far enough down the street to be out of range.

Cora was lost in thought for a solid block before realizing she was utterly lost. She had taken a cab over and now in the dark of night she seemed to be completely turned around. Nothing looked the way she remembered it, and the street names did not even sound familiar.

She suddenly felt nervous, unprotected, and as if she perhaps should have taken her mother's advice to go home. She heard loud footsteps in the distance behind her and tried to quicken her pace, hoping it was someone out for a late night run and that she was not about to be mugged, or something.

It wasn't until the steps got considerably louder that she realized someone was calling her name. Turning around, she saw Robert running toward her at full speed, a determined look in his eyes. He caught up to her a second later and nearly knocked her over with the embrace he grasped her with.

He was out of breath and she could feel the heat radiating out from his chest. But he held her close and her waning protests fell on deaf ears. He kissed her forehead before letting her go, instead resting his hands on her shoulders. "I can't…" he paused, catching his breath, "I can't let you go…not again."

His expression was so gentle and he said the words she wanted him so badly to say. But he was not about to get off that easily; she wouldn't be made a fool of by anyone, and certainly not by Robert. She carefully extricated his hands from her shoulders and looked at him seriously, studying his face for any sign of untruth. She wanted to say something profound and something that would make him feel as badly as she did but, "you had another woman in there," was all she could whisper.

His expression was pained and he nodded slowly. "Yes, I did. I don't deserve it, but if you would give me just one chance to explain?" He held out his hand in question and waited for her response.

* * *

Robert took Cora's coat and led her into the sitting room. Their walk back had been silent, though she had let him hold her hand all the way to his house.

She took a seat on the settee and looked wearily at the bottle of wine and glasses that were still resting on the table. "Might you clear that away?" She asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

"Of course." Robert took the glasses and bottle without question and a moment later she heard the thump of glass as it hit the trash bin in the kitchen. He reappeared several minutes later with two large mugs of coffee. Offering one to her, he sat beside her and put his on the table.

"I thought you only drank tea?"

Robert smiled and shook his head. "Well, my mama did always say that sweet tea was best for nerves, but I've been hooked on that coffee you bought."

"And I make you nervous?" Cora replied softly, looking up from her coffee at him.

"No, of course you don't." Robert replied immediately, reaching for her hand. "I want to explain and what I need to explain, well, that makes me nervous."

"I'm listening."

And so he explained. He explained how the night at Jalouse he intended to approach her as a potential investor but was thrown off when she seemed interested in him. Explained how he took her to lunch still intending to invite her to the investors meeting. Explained how during lunch he realized she was the first woman who had ever been completely honest with him, and how he realized over the coming days the only thing he wanted was for her to be a part of his life. And then he sat a bit closer and lowered his voice; he began to tell her about his mother and the papers she gave him to sign, about going to Rosamund's flat to drink and about Jane showing up with wine shortly before she did. He took her other hand and held them as he spoke, making silent promises that if she gave him another chance, he'd try never to put them in this situation again.

When he finished he leaned in to kiss her, hoping to seal his words over with a gesture of affection. Cora held her hand to his chest, though, holding him at bay.

"Robert, how do I know that I can trust you?" She shrugged her shoulders and edged over a bit on the settee.

Robert looked utterly bewildered. "How can you trust me? Cora, I've just laid myself bare, told you every minute detail. How can you not trust me?" He stood, frowning and pacing before her.

Cora stood as well and felt herself getting upset again. "I've only know you for a little more than a week, Robert Crawley. For all I know you're a pathological liar! I came over here only to find you with some other woman. How do I know it won't happen again a month from now?" She threw her hands up in exasperation and turned away, looking out the window.

"I didn't ask her to come here! I haven't spoken to her in months! She just showed up here. Cora, I only want you." Robert approached her from behind and let his hands rest on her hips, his chin on her shoulder. "I only want you," he repeated.

"Did you sleep with her?" Cora asked, still looking out the window. Her voice was low but she felt it crack under the pain of her words.

Robert's grip on her waist loosened. "No. But I thought about it…and I kissed her."

"Damn it, Robert." Cora shifted out of his arms and turned to face him. "And if I hadn't shown up here?" Her voice was higher now and she was clutching her arms around herself tightly.

"Cora, I don't know what to say! I've told you everything that happened. Yes, she was here and I kissed her. Would I have slept with her? I don't know." He was pacing again now and shaking his head. "Can I promise that I would have sent her away? No. But it doesn't matter!" He shouted, louder than he intended.

"How can you say it doesn't matter?" Cora cried out, incredulously. "It matters a great deal!"

"No, she doesn't matter, nothing else matters! Cora, I only want you!" She stood staring at him and so he approached before continuing. "I won't lie to you and I won't make any promises that I can't keep. But I promise you, Cora, if you stay, there will be no one else. I will do everything I can to make this work."

Very carefully, he took her into his arms again but made no attempt to kiss her. Cora looked up at him, appraising his words and fighting the urge to believe every one of them. But looking into his eyes, she knew it was all over. She was completely head over heels for him. She was hopelessly besotted. "Just you and I?" she whispered, cupping his face and brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead.

He nodded and lowered his head, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Cora leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Just you and I," he confirmed between kisses. "Just you and I."

Very quickly their embrace turned from one of comfort to a more frenzied and impassioned coupling. She wanted him in a way that overwhelmed her; a way that felt new, but with Robert felt safe.

Cora felt her back hit the sofa much quicker than she expected. Robert was on top of her in an instant and was pulling at the buttons on her blouse, his lips already latched at her neck. Her soft moans of pleasure seemed to encourage him and a few seconds later she felt the fabric tearing apart and his hands on her bare skin.

"Sorry," he murmured with a mischievous grin. Cora wrapped her legs around him in response and reached down for his belt buckle as he pulled his shirt up over his head. Soon they were in similar states of undress and Cora felt breathless as his tongue slipped into her mouth and his arousal pressed insistently against her.

She moved ever so slightly, adjusting herself on the settee, and felt Robert do the same. Just as she arched her back up toward him, hoping he would understand her wordless gesture, she felt Robert's weight shift again, accidently propelling them both to the floor below.

It took a surprisingly short time for them to recover from the tumble and for Robert to crawl back over her, grinning at their new location. This time he settled between her legs and nudged her knees apart, looking up to see her nod consent before thrusting into her and letting out a moan, muffled against her chest. Her bare skin was warm against his skin and she tried to take her time, letting her hands run up and down the smooth hollow of his back and strong cords of muscle along his arms. She wanted the imprint on her memory, wanted to savor the feeling. She wanted to record the husky tone of his voice as he said her name and the shudder of his body when she reached down to touch him as he moved inside her.

His lips found the base of her throat and sucked gently before letting his tongue tease the pebbled skin trailing down to her breasts. She moved methodically beneath him, her hips arching in tandem with his thrusts, and when he took her breast into his mouth, teeth grazing her nipple, she cried out something unintelligible that only made him go faster.

She felt breathless, drunk on the taste of his skin and on the murmured words that flowed between them. The pace quickened between her legs and he rested his arms on her sides to steady himself, muttering what sounded like _good lord _and _oh, God, Cora _over and over. His lips found hers again and drew her in; sucking on her lower lip until she groaned again, Cora could tell he was trying to draw it out and make it last.

Their limbs felt helplessly tangled together and if it weren't for the carpet beneath her, she would have been lost in an abstract sea of sensory pleasure. His fingers and lips seemed to be everywhere, running over every inch of her body as they moved together. Robert's thrusts turned to a more insistent rhythm and before long she felt a surge of pleasure wash over her, her body arching forward to meet Robert's as she climaxed.

Her head was fuzzy and her body tingled all over but she was vaguely aware of Robert's slowed movements above her as he finished, too, a moment later. He continued to thrust slowly against her, not wanting to break their connection or move away just yet. When he finally did collapse atop her, their perspiring skin met again and he peppered kisses against her flushed cheeks.

Robert rolled beside her and took her into his arms. Too hot to move anywhere else or even speak, Cora purred her pleasure against his throat and ran her fingers through the thick curls of his hair. He shifted down slightly until his head was rested against her chest, making it easier for her to continue her lazy passes through his hair. Her fingers twisted and twined the locks and she heard him release a soothing breath, obviously relaxed by her touch.

They stayed like that for untold minutes until the chill in the room finally nipped at her skin. Shivering for a different reason, Cora let her body press against Robert's until he too felt the cool air and suggested they relocate to the bedroom. In what she could only describe as a gesture of adorably masculine intent, he swooped her up into his arms and carried her off, kissing her soundly as they left the room.

* * *

They came together again in the comfort of the bedroom, leaving exhausted bodies and entangled sheets in their wake. The room was dark save for the glow of the lamp on the nightstand and they huddled together in the middle of the bed, wrapped in Robert's duvet.

Cora's eyes grew heavy and knew she was nearing sleep, when Robert's soft voice broke the peaceful stillness of the room.

"May I ask you something?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. The tone of his voice gave her pause and she shifted until her face was level with his.

She smiled and kissed his lips, wishing it would put him to sleep. She didn't want any more questions, only sleep. "What is it?" She replied cautiously.

His hand reached out and she let him take her hand, trying to focus on the way his fingers drew circles into her palms instead of the serious look in his eyes.

"You can tell me no, but I wonder if maybe…"

"Robert," she grinned and slapped him teasingly on the arm, "I'm tired, we can go again in the morning."

"No, no that isn't what I wanted to ask—" He paused and searched her expression once more. "I thought in the morning we could go to the hotel to get your things and bring them back here…"

"I can have someone send over one of my bags," she agreed, yawning sleepily into the pillow.

"I mean all of your bags. You could stay here, with me." Robert sat up and looked down at their hands, studying them intently as he waited for some sort of response.

"You want me to stay with you? To live here, while I'm in London?" Cora knew her face had contorted to some version of a surprised expression and the nervousness reflected in Robert's face was so sweet it made her want to giggle.

Robert nodded empathetically. "I don't want you to go, you make me so very happy and it will save us so much in taxi fare!"

Cora laughed at his reply and swung her arms loosely around his neck. "I'd like that, very much…so long as you don't tell my mother—" her peel of laughter halted midsentence and she fell silent, realizing her slip.

Robert released his hold on her and leaned back, tilting his head in question and frowning ever so slightly. "You never talk about your family," he replied, as if only just realizing it.

Cora turned out of his embrace, or at least tried to, but found herself trapped under his gaze. "You're not the only one who lives with the burden of familial expectation, Robert," she said quietly, bunching the sheet up around her chest.

He nodded, though she only saw him in the corner of her eye, and reached for her again. Neither spoke for several minutes. Robert's fingers drew delicate patterns on her arm and his nail scraped gently against her skin. He was gathering his thoughts, she realized later.

"It's why you thought the papers were right…why you assumed the worst." His tone was not accusatory but it still rallied her defenses nevertheless.

She fought the urge to say something biting, and chose her words carefully. "I assumed the worst because you didn't give me a reason to believe anything else."

"No I didn't, you're right. But Cora, we'd spent almost every moment together…I just—it seems like there are things I'm missing, some element you haven't told me."

Serendipitously, Cora's jumbled thoughts and explanations were interrupted by a faint sound from the hallway. "That's my phone." Cora stood, wrapping one of the sheets around her, and darted out of the room to take the call.

* * *

As soon as she saw her mother's name flashing across the screen she wanted to run back to the warmth of Robert's bed, and his embrace. But returning so quickly would mean a continuation of their conversation—something she did not foresee going well.

"_Hello, Mother," she whispered slowly. _

"_Cora Levinson! Where are you? I've called your hotel suite a hundred times only to finally be told you'd gone out late this evening." _

"_I'm out. I'm…with a friend." _

"_Good Lord, Cora. You're with that boy, aren't you?"_

"…_Yes." _

"_Have you listened to anything I've taught you? Cora, how could you be so damn stupid? This isn't some romance story, it's not going to end well and by the time you realize that it's going to cost a lot of money and time to fix the mess." _

_Cora laughed, the only reaction she could muster in response to the hysterics. "You don't know what you're talking about. It's not the same, Mother." _

"_Do you think this is funny, Cora?"_

"_Yes, yes I do." Cora rolled her eyes, contemplating what it would take to smash her phone into a million tiny pieces._

"_Well not everyone shares your sense of humor. End this silliness, Cora."_

"_Mother, it's late, I have to go."_

"_Cora don't you hang up on—"_

"—_Goodnight, Mother."_

* * *

Cora padded back to the bedroom where she found Robert sitting up, holding a pint of ice cream with two spoons sticking out of it. He smiled and pulled the sheet back, nodding at the empty space beside him. "Want some?" He held a spoon out as she slid back into bed.

"Sure," Cora replied. She took the proffered spoon and held it for a moment, looking at the man beside her. He was sweet and so very kind. Despite his missteps and failings, he was making an effort; he was trying. It wouldn't work if she could not manage to do the same. Their flaws, though separated by cultures and the nuance of family, were similar. If anyone was going to understand, it might be him.

"It was my mother on the phone," she offered, setting down the unused spoon. "She doesn't know you, but she doesn't like you."

Robert frowned and set the ice cream on the nightstand. "Well I'm very charming, perhaps once she meets me—"

"No," Cora shook her head. "It won't matter. You aren't part of the plan."

"Ah, so you've been given a plan, too, then?" His eyes flashed a recognition that she had never seen before and it felt safe to tell him, safe to let him into the place she very seldom visited herself.

"It isn't my plan, it's my mother's. You see, before I came to London I had this boyfriend. We met two summers ago at a party in Newport. I had never seen him around before and when he asked me to dinner I thought he was interested. By the next summer we were inseparable. His family owned one of the other large manufacturing companies in the US and so it just seemed meant to be, somehow. Until I realized it was a little too meant to be. I heard him talking on the phone one morning. He said once he proposed, the deal would finally be done and his parents would let him take over as CEO. He wanted my money, my share of the company stocks and my eventual joint ownership of my father's business." Cora swiped at her eyes and brushed away several tears that only made her embarrassed. She hated that it still had the ability to affect her in such a way.

"I'm so sorry," Robert replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"No, no it's alright," Cora said quickly, wiping her eyes once more. "Well, I packed my things up that morning and told him to take his deal and shove it. I told him a few other things, but that doesn't really matter," she smiled, recollecting the profanities she had thrown at him. "I went straight to my mother's house to tell her…she had known all along. It was her that invited him to the party, she who suggested he pursue me. She said she was only doing what was best for the family, but I couldn't listen to any more lies. I tried to move on, tried to make sense of it all but my entire life didn't seem my own anymore…"

"…And so you came to London." Robert finished.

Cora nodded. "Yes, a month later I left for London. And then I met you."

Robert nodded as well and pulled her against him. She relaxed in his embrace and he knew by the slight rise and fall of her shoulders that she was crying. They didn't need to say anything else. He didn't need to say anything else, not tonight at least. Her reaction to him made perfect sense now, and he only wished that he'd been smart enough to suspect something sooner.

He knew he would have to prove himself several times over. He didn't deserve her trust yet and his lie had been far too similar to the life she left behind. It would take time and honestly and countless conversations.

But all that could wait. For just the night, it could wait.


	8. Eight

Over two weeks passed as Robert and Cora fell into a familiar routine. True to his word, Robert had gone with Cora to retrieve all her bags at the hotel to bring them back to his house. He cleared out a few drawers for her and made space in the closet. It was all so wonderfully cliché and he was continually surprised at how easy the transition had been.

A few days after Cora moved in, she and Robert decided it was time for him to head back to work. He had accepted her pleas for him to resume his schedule only as long as she promised to do the same, and so she too had been doing some work for the family business from home. Every morning they'd wake at a fairly reasonable hour, though often a bit later after their regular morning activities, and have breakfast together before splitting for the day. Robert would return late in the afternoon and they'd spend their evenings in the sitting room cuddled by the fire, wrapped up in each other and the perfect little world they had so quickly created.

So when Cora kissed Robert goodbye on Thursday morning, several weeks into their cohabitation, she thought nothing of the day ahead of them—beyond her desire to go out for a walk at some point. The two of them had been looking forward to the evening, as they were meeting Rosamund and her husband for dinner. Robert talked about his sister often, and Cora was rather excited to meet one of his family members. The rest of the family was proving to be slightly more difficult.

Their mothers had been trying, as of late. From the filtered pieces of information that Robert let slip, Cora knew that Violet, his mother, was not happy with her presence in his house and in his life. She had overheard a few hushed phone calls where her loud voice could be heard all the way through his phone, but he insisted that she simply needed time to come around. And her mother had been no picnic either. The near constant phone calls had all but stopped when Cora had threatened to have the phone line cut off, but she still received biting emails almost every day. She _had_ been doing some work for the company from Robert's house, but it certainly was not enough to placate her mother. She didn't know why she bothered, really. She had no integral part in the business; she planned company events and fundraisers, she didn't really make any major decisions. It was just her mother's attempt at making her feel guilty.

But after nearly three weeks of blissful residence at "Crawley House," as she had jokingly christened the townhouse, she was absolutely not going to feel bad for staying in London.

Midway through the afternoon there was a knock at the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of the mail flap opening. Setting her computer and mug of coffee aside, Cora padded out to the main hall to find an envelope addressed to her.

_Cora, please come to the office at 4 PM. A car will pick you up outside the house._

It was curiously short and typed out. Not that she really knew Robert's handwriting very well, but it would have been nice to have a little note from him that she could save. With a passive shrug she abandoned her comfortable spot in the sitting room to go get ready.

* * *

When she was dropped off at the front of the building, it occurred to Cora that she perhaps should have called Robert before arriving. She felt uneasy for some odd reason and like she wanted to shrink back to the safety of the townhouse.

She entered the building and was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the lobby. The loud clicking of her heels on the tile floor surprised her and it took her a moment before she realized that she was standing stock still in the center of the crowd. Nothing looked familiar and everyone seemed to be moving in different directions. The constant dinging of elevators and clacking of shoes was like buzzing gnats in her ear. It was horribly loud and congested.

She made it to the side of the room before pulling her phone out to call Robert. The note hadn't said what floor the office was on and there didn't seem to be any signs around.

No service.

_Damn. _She muttered quietly, dropping the phone back into her bag. She pursed her lips and scanned the room. After a minute she zeroed in on a man wearing a dark black jacket with the initials _G.P.M. _on the back. Grantham Property Management. She had seen the same logo on some t-shirts in Robert's closet.

She practically ran across the lobby toward him, simply excited to have found some help. He turned as she approached and smiled at her, nodding slightly. "May I help you, Miss?" He looked down at her curiously.

"Oh, yes. Can you tell me what floor the Grantham offices are on?" Cora pressed a hand to her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. The man's deep voice and appraising stare intimidated her a bit, and she shifted slightly on the heels of her shoes.

"Do you have an appointment?" He asked, tilting his head. He seemed surprised by her American accent and she could tell he was still drawing up some sort of opinion on her.

Cora reached into her purse and pulled out the note, handing it to him. When he opened it and frowned, she reached for it back and tried to explain. "Yes, I…well, my boyfriend is Robert Crawley."

She could feel a deep blush painting across her face and up her neck. The term boyfriend was one that had not passed her lips before and it felt strange. Strange, but nice. It was an appellation she longed for him to wear, a symbol of their commitment and a mark that would keep all others away. She was never the jealous type, but she wanted it absolutely clear to anyone, especially that _cleaning company woman_, that Robert Crawley was hers.

The man snapped up from his thoughts and his expression immediately brightened. As if the details had suddenly clicked into place, he extended his hand with a smile. "Charlie Carson, I am the building manager at Grantham Property Management," he explained, straightening up a bit. "I oversee all the properties and ensure that they are running smoothly. It is very nice to meet you, Miss Levinson." He smiled proudly as they shook hands and Cora relaxed immediately.

"Cora," she replied. "And by the looks of it, I'm late!" She gazed down at her watch and sighed. She hoped Robert wasn't waiting for her.

"Are you here to see Mr. Crawley?" He frowned again slightly and looked at his watch.

"Yes," Cora nodded. "Could you point me in the right direction?"

He still looked apprehensive but smiled once more and pointed toward the second elevator. "Take that one up to the tenth floor. The secretary at the front will point you in the right direction from there."

"Thank you," Cora replied happily. "And it was so nice to meet you." She waved quickly before bounding off toward the elevator, buzzing with the anticipation of seeing Robert.

* * *

The elevator _dinged_ at the tenth floor and Cora stepped out, eyeing her surroundings curiously.

The secretary seemed surprised when she asked for Robert and simply told her to wait for a few moments. Several employees happened to pass by and they all looked at her like some foreign invader. She could hear their whispers as they walked down the halls, murmuring about her relationship with Robert and no doubt regurgitating some of the ridiculous stories about them that had been in the newspapers.

Cora was used to people being at her beck and call; people who asked her with annoying frequency if she needed anything or if she wanted anything. She had never quite experienced anything like this. She imagined it was something like what zoo animals felt, the staring and the judgmental looks.

A few moments did pass before a woman emerged from the office. She extended her hand and smiled softly. "Miss Levinson? My husband phoned from downstairs to tell me you were on your way up. I'm Elsie Carson, the office manager."

Cora smiled and shook her hand. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. Do you know where I could find Robert?"

"Mr. Crawley is not in, Miss Levinson. He's out of the office all afternoon visiting some of the hotels in the city." Elsie pursed her lips and looked extremely uncomfortable.

Cora, mirroring her uncomfortable expression, frowned and shrugged. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Robert had sent me a note asking me to meet him here."

Elise nodded. She looked kindly at the young American woman who had walked herself right into the lion's den. She didn't need to see the note because she was the one who had printed it and had it couriered over to Mr. Crawley's townhouse. "The note was actually from his mother, Miss Levinson. She would like to see you now."

Cora felt the color drain from her face and wanted to kick herself for her reflexive nod. She had half a mind to refuse, to get back into the elevator and run home. But she found herself being led down the hallway toward the office at the end. Elsie knocked once and opened the door, gesturing for her to go in.

The woman sitting in the leather chair didn't bother looking up. "Please, sit." Her voice was cool and Cora knew instantly that the woman disliked her.

"Hello, Vi—Mrs. Crawley," Cora offered, sitting down at the seat opposite the desk. Robert's mother seemed offended by her greeting and looked up at her with narrowed eyes, her fingers drumming on the desk.

"I will admit I was rather curious to see the foreigner my son is apparently so enamored with." She replied in greeting. "Miss Levinson, is it?"

"Yes…Cora…" Cora replied softly.

"Right, Miss Levinson. I understand your family is in manufacturing?"

"Yes, we own one of the largest manufacturing firms on the east coast—" Cora began with a proud smile, until she noted the disinterested look on Violet's face.

"I'll be frank with you, Miss Levinson. I am not pleased with the relationship between you and my son. You've made my company and my family a topic of conversation and I cannot stand by and watch my son throw away his life on some—"

Cora stood abruptly, unwilling to listen to her harsh words. "Now wait just a second. I've done nothing wrong. Robert pursued me and I have absolutely not made your family a topic of conversation. And further, I resent your implications," Cora exclaimed.

"Yes, and I resent the fact that you are living in my son's house and keeping him from doing his duty to this family," Violet replied coldly. She gazed down at some papers on her desk and seemed momentarily lost in thought. "I also resent the fact that my son fancies himself in love with some American, but that is an entirely different issue…" she mumbled, more to herself than Cora.

Her words caught Cora by surprise and she lowered herself back into the chair. "He fancies himself…what?" Cora asked, willing herself not to appear too interested.

Violet looked at her with narrowed eyes once more, aware of her slip. "My son does not know what he wants," she said hurriedly, feeling nervous at the shimmer of excitement in the young woman's eyes. "He would never dare to do anything against my wishes, Miss Levinson."

"What precisely do you want from me?" Cora asked, holding back a biting retort out of respect for Robert.

"I do not want or need anything from you. I simply hope that you will consider what is best for Robert." She smiled an odd, strained smile before turning her attention back to the paperwork in front of her. "Elsie will show you out," she added.

Cora sat for several seconds in silence before realizing that their conversation was apparently over. She stood and reached for her things, turning for the door when a photo of Robert on Violet's desk caught her eye. "You know, I understand that you may have rules and when people break them you find it hard to forgive. I understand that and I respect it." She paused, noting with satisfaction that Violet's attention had been caught. "But I will not leave him so I suggest you stop your bullying and consider that perhaps_ I _am what is best for Robert."

Cora did not wait for a response from Violet, opting instead to turn and leave. She had no interested in being berated by someone she barely knew and she doubted that her words would sit well, anyway.

She rushed out of the office and out of the building without ever looking back. She missed the whispers of the staff on her way out and she missed the bemused, but curious, expression on Violet's face at her grand departure.

* * *

Cora's thoughts were cloudy and jumbled all the way home. Violet's harsh appraisal of her seemed unwarranted, but not altogether unsurprising. She was the invader, the foreigner who had swooped in and mucked everything up for Violet. But the Robert she knew was devoted to his family and to the business. Her presence would never change that. She was not some distraction. And she certainly would not be made to feel like one.

Returning to the dark house made Cora shiver and a chill run up her spine. The autumn air had started breezing through the city and everything around them had begun to crisp up in anticipation. It was as if the city was starting all over in this new season. She had envisioned walks through the leaves and cider and cuddling on the sofa together with thick sweaters. Now all she could imagine was Robert's mother kicking her out of his house and all the way back to New York.

Robert was still not home and luckily so because she couldn't face him just yet. She decided a walk was in order, to clear her mind, and so she threw her bag down in the foyer and set out toward the park, lost in thought.

* * *

Robert returned home with a large bouquet of flowers, wearing a wide smile. He had a particularly good day at work, having finished all his onsite meetings, and was rather looking forward to dinner with his sister. He wanted Cora to meet his family and for them to see her the way he did—as someone who would be in his life for a very great while. He knew Rosamund would love her, and once Rosamund approved she would badger Mama until she caved as well.

Even before he turned his key in the lock, he knew something was not quite right. The house was dark and none of the outdoor lights had been turned on, either. Usually Cora sat by the front window with her laptop in the evenings and she would jump up to greet him at the door. But the house was silent, and Cora was apparently not home.

He checked the bedroom just in case she had gone to nap, but found that empty too. He called her phone several times before hearing a faint ringing from the foyer and discovering that she left her purse. A feeling of alarm gripped at his stomach and made him feel more uneasy than he could ever remember being. Robert poked his head out the front door, not quite sure what he expected to find, but the street was empty save for a few children playing a few houses down.

He sat in the front window and waited raptly for nearly a half hour before Cora came into view.

Jumping up, he paced at the door until he heard the click of her key in the lock. She looked bewilderedly at him upon entering the house, and was unprepared for the fervor with which he embraced her. "Where…have…you…been?" He murmured against her hair, holding her tightly against his tense body.

Cora pulled back slightly and Robert was surprised to see she looked upset. "I went for a walk." She replied shortly, maneuvering around him to reach for her purse on the floor. "Why? Is that a problem?"

Robert shook his head and took a step toward her once more, reaching for her hand. She let him take it and stared down at their entwined fingers for a moment before looking up at him with a softer expression. "No, I was just worried."

"I can take care of myself, Robert." She replied gently, releasing his hand and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I've got to go get ready for dinner."

* * *

They met Rosamund and her husband at a pub near their flat. Robert knew even as he saw Rosamund waiting outside from a distance away that she was excited. Her eyes were shining with the promise of finally meeting the much talked about Cora, and no doubt she had been instructed by their mother to get all the details she possibly could.

"Brother, dear!" She cried in a singsong voice as they approached. Enveloping Robert in a hug, she squeezed him tightly before letting go and setting her sights on Cora.

Cora, who had walked a pace behind Robert ever since they exited the tube, was a bit wary. Everything Robert had told her about Rosamund was good, of course, but after her interaction with his mother, she was not about to let her guard down around any of the other Crawley women.

But Rosamund reached out and hugged her too, squeezing her with just the same enthusiasm she did Robert. "You must be Cora," she said excitedly, "Come, come. I just had my husband get a table inside." She led the couple in and pointed at a booth in the back, leading them through the crowd as she peppered Cora with questions.

"Rosamund, give her a moment to breathe," Robert laughed, sitting down and shaking Marmaduke's hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited you've found a girlfriend, Robbie. When was the last time that happened…grammar school?" Both siblings erupted with laughter and Rosamund swatted Robert teasingly on the arm.

It was the second time that day the word girlfriend had been offered up, and Cora felt herself twitch at the moniker. Robert seemed unfazed and continued to laugh along with Rosamund before getting up to retrieve their drinks from the bar.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you to my husband, Mar—" Rosamund began.

"Duke—" He offered, extending his hand. "It's lovely to meet you Cora."

Cora smiled and shook his hand, though her gaze had followed Robert across the bar.

"_Marmaduke _likes to pretend that he isn't actually saddled with the most God-awful name in existence," Rosamund giggled, leaning over to kiss her husband.

"Well, I've found myself a perfect match with you, _Rosamund," _he replied cheerfully.

Cora watched as the couple bantered back and forth, teasing each other and trading sweet glances. Robert returned a few minutes later, balancing their drinks in his arms. He slid into the booth beside her and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he reached for her hand below the table. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered softly.

His fingers pressed into hers, and looking into his eyes Cora knew what she had promised his mother was true. She wouldn't leave him. And no harsh words from anyone would change her mind.

The evening passed in a haze of drinks and merriment.

Rosamund told endless stories about "little Robbie" and his childhood antics, and Robert reciprocated with some colorful tales about the parties Rosamund had thrown during their teenage years. Cora had relaxed instantly after Robert's small gesture of affection and following suit with Rosamund and Duke, they'd been trading amorous glances and touches all night. Robert's fingers had been toying with the hem of her skirt for at least an hour and by their third round, she became aware of his fingers sliding up her thigh. She put him off, grasping tightly at his wandering hands and whispered a promise of _later,_ that seemed to appease him.

After having one last drink and saying a flurry of slurred goodbyes, Robert and Cora parted from his sister and brother-in-law and headed home. They were both glad of the walk, and fresh air, and Robert happily swung his arm around Cora as they neared the house.

He noticed roughly half way home a perceptible change in her. It was nothing he said, as they had been walking in comfortable silence, but he could tell by the slight hunch of her shoulder and the far away look in her eyes that something was still not quite right.

* * *

Waiting until they were both dressed for bed and settled in comfortably, Robert tried to ascertain just what he had seemed to miss.

Cora's look of sadness and slight concern had carried into the house, far past the foyer, and had decamped in the bedroom. It was a thick air between them, of words unsaid and held back. She looked at him with a tender softness, but he knew she was biting her tongue. He made no attempt at amorous affections, as he knew she wanted nothing of the sort, and instead cleared his throat and gazed at her until her attention was caught.

"Something is wrong," he said quietly, declaring a statement of fact more so than questioning her.

"What?" Cora's short response confirmed his suspicion and he reached for her hand, frowning slightly at her forced look of surprise.

"Cora you must tell me what's upset you. Please?" He entreated, brushing his fingers over her knuckles.

"I saw your mother today," she replied after a contemplative pause. She never planned to tell him, but looking at him lying beside her, in a room that had gone from his to theirs in such a short span of time, she wasn't quite sure how to keep the secret. Even though she had wanted to keep it for his sake, she knew it would wedge between them until eventually it spilled out.

Robert's face was one of slight confusion until the weight of her words settled. He released her hand and stood, beginning to pace beside the bed. "I should have known, after she sent me out on those bloody pointless meetings all afternoon," he muttered, reaching for his phone.

"What did she say to you?" He asked, looking up from the floor with a horribly upset expression.

"Nothing really," Cora murmured. "She seems to think I'm going to distract you from work."

Robert muttered a few more unintelligible things before disappearing out into the hall. She listened to him trudge toward the front door and rummage around in one of the closets. A moment later he returned carrying two suitcases—one of which was hers.

Without explanation, though he was still muttering, he flung open the drawers and began tossing her clothes into the open one he'd thrown on the bed. Cora watched with horror as the contents piled up before her.

She hopped up and ran over to him, grabbing at his hand to still the frenzied movements. "Robert, please. You've been drinking and you're not thinking clearly. We can talk about this in the morning?" Her voice was pleading and he simply dropped one of her dresses onto the floor and looked at her confusedly.

"No, Cora! It will never work. We're going to the airport," he cried, still frowning as he tore through the other drawers.

"Robert, please," Cora pleaded once more, her voice cracking under the duress. "Robert, I don't want to g—" She paused midsentence and watched as he began to pack the other suitcase with his own things. "…What are you doing?" She asked, in no more than a gravelly whisper.

He looked at her bewilderedly once more, still flinging t-shirts into his case. "We're going to the airport," he replied. "I'm packing!"

"But, where are we going once we get there?"

Robert paused again, looking quite like a child who was irritated at being interrupted, and sighed with exasperation. "It doesn't matter where. We're going somewhere away from here, preferably somewhere warm and with limited mobile phone service."

"What about your work? And what are we going to do about your mother?"

Robert smiled, taking her hand and reaching to unzip his suitcase with the other. "I can answer that—Absolutely nothing!" He leaned down to kiss her, and pulled her against him. "Come with me?" His voice was soft and sent a shiver up her spine. He took her nod as confirmation and kissed her again; letting his lips say the words and promises she already knew.

* * *

It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when the car he called pulled up in front of the house. Not bothering to check his suitcase, because he was quite certain that with Cora in hand he had everything he needed, Robert led her down the front walk and bundled her into the car.

She rested her head against his shoulder as he sat beside her, and was surprised when he did not feel the slightest pang of regret upon looking back to see the house already out of view.


	9. Nine

"Do you think anyone will notice that we're gone?" Cora laughed as she settled back into her seat and reached for the bottle of water she picked up before they boarded. She took a long sip and toyed with the cap as Robert shook his head empathetically.

"No, I doubt it," he said, albeit rather unbelievably. He motioned for the attendant, as he needed something stronger than water, and ordered them drinks. "And, anyway it doesn't matter," he added as the woman approached with two champagne flutes, "we're celebrating."

Cora raised her eyebrows in jest but happily took the proffered glass, holding hers up so that they could toast properly. "What are we celebrating?" She enquired.

Robert laughed. His smiled widely and clicked his glass to hers enthusiastically before leaning over to kiss her passionately. He pulled back a moment later when the drink cart bumped against his arm. "We are celebrating us," he replied softly, his lips pressed to her ear. "And our great escape, of course." He clicked their glasses once more before drinking his down in one fluid motion.

Cora followed suit and soon they were lulled to sleep by the hum of the plane. They fell asleep cuddled beside one another, Cora's head resting on Robert's shoulder and two small airplane blankets draped over both of them.

Well, Cora fell asleep.

For the next two hours or so, Robert sat quietly and tried not to fidget as he watched Cora sleep and willed his body to do the same. He had no suck luck, though. If he were completely honest, flying was not a forte of his. He certainly was not going to complain about it, not in front of Cora at least, but he could not help but fearing that something awful could happen each time he had to fly somewhere. He took a light sedative before getting on, though he hadn't mentioned that to Cora either.

And so he sat very still and fingered the edge of the scratchy blankets they had been provided. Being in first class he thought they would at least have nice blankets, but apparently not. Every so often he waved an attendant down for a fresh drink, but by his third glass of champagne he was feeling very jittery.

He did try not to move around too much, but the combination of his full bladder, slight intoxication, and pangs of fear each time he looked beyond Cora to check out the window, he would move just a bit. After the third time he jerked, tearing his eyes away from the night sky, he looked down to find Cora staring up at him, her eyes both sleepy and curious as she gazed at him.

"Are you alright?" She murmured, settling back against his shoulder. She reached over to cover him with the excess blanket, but he shrugged it off and moved to stand—only to realize he was still belted in.

"I—yes. I am fine. But did you ever wonder how safe planes really are?" He frowned, trying to extract himself from the seatbelt and muttered under his breath as his fingers moved dumbly around the clasp. "And I don't even know how to use a life raft properly. I was kicked out of the boy scouts, did I ever tell you that?" He rambled, still tugging ineffectually at his seatbelt, his voice a slurry mixture of pharmaceutics and alcohol.

Cora smiled softly at him. "You are afraid of flying?" Her question was not so much inquisitive as it was confirming the obvious, but her gentle expression made him feel a bit more relaxed. She reached over and brushed her fingers up and down his arm, reassuringly, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She looked over past him for a brief moment before turning her attention back.

"I'm not afraid of flying, I just…" Robert trailed off, frowning again as his thoughts seemed to be in a haze of alcohol, floating around in a puddle of champagne. Besides, there was nothing less masculine than crying like a child over something so trite. He could not have Cora thinking him incredibly weak.

Cora nodded in understanding and removed them blanket from his lap. She reached for the clasp to his seatbelt and released him from that as well. "I'm going to the bathroom now," she said. Her imploring look confused him and Robert only nodded at her, his thoughts still muddled.

"Alright, I think it's that way," he offered, reaching down for the bottle of water she'd left in her bag. His head was already pounding and his mouth tasted of the champagne he'd guzzled down.

Cora grabbed at his wrist, though, and held it until his eyes were level with hers again. "I'm going to the bathroom now," she repeated with stronger intonation. "Perhaps you could come help me in a moment?" Her expression was so animated and yet it still took a moment for him to understand her meaning.

"Help you?"

Slightly exasperated, Cora nodded and let her gaze fall to his trousers before turning back up wearing a more mischievous look. "Yes, I think I may need help," she murmured.

"Oh!" Robert grinned in understanding. He nodded and looked at her in slight question, just to confirm what he hoped she was suggesting. Cora only smiled in response as her fingers grazed across his abdomen and she stood to move over him, her nails grazing a bit lower before stepping over completely and making her way out into the aisle. "Yes, I will be right there," Robert replied, still grinning wildly.

Cora said nothing else but winked at him before turning in the direction of the bathroom.

Robert blinked a few times before shooting up from his seat, stumbling over the armrest as he stood in the aisle, grinning and looking around to get his bearings. The plane was rather empty and those few people who were also sitting in first class looked to be asleep. Robert didn't spend much time admiring his surroundings, and instead took a few unsteady steps in the direction of the small onboard bathroom.

Cora was sitting on the edge of sink, turned backward so she could look into the mirror. She smiled brightly as he entered the tiny space and shut the door behind him. Cora only grinned for another moment, as if waiting for something, before realizing he was not exactly thinking deeply at the moment. Gesturing for him to move away from the door, Cora reached down to lock it before standing in front of him, hooking her arms around his neck. "Did you leave your seat in an upright and locked position?" She asked, a mischievous inflection in her voice.

Robert was still smiling. He knew she was playing with him and he was certainly all for that. He lurched back into the door accidently before adjusting his footing and wrapping his own hands around Cora's waist, his fingers playing at the fabric over her hips. She leaned up to kiss him, letting their lips press together in a heated embrace and her tongue parting his mouth. She was far more dexterous than he and had him in a state of blissful overheated excitement in a matter of seconds. "Yes," he murmured, his voice humming against her neck, "all ready for takeoff." Two could play at that game.

"Good," she replied, looking up at him innocently, "we'd hate to have trouble with the landing gear." She giggled at her ridiculous words but Robert's grin only widened and she knew he was already half drunk on the cheap liquor they had been served.

He groaned with pleasure as Cora's hands drew back down his chest, trailing lower and lower until they met the cool metal of his belt buckle. Unclasping it and reaching for his zipper, Robert turned slightly and reached at the sink to steady himself once more. It felt as though Cora's hands were everywhere, producing tingling sensations all over his body until he felt her grasp him more deliberately, stroking him through the fabric of his underwear.

Cora continued her attentions, rubbing him for another moment until her fingers slipped below the waistband of his undergarments and met bare skin. Robert shuddered at the contact, and felt his knees buckle as Cora teased him, looking up mischievously. He muttered something about planes being his new favorite place, but his words were soon lost in the mingling of their tongues and mouths in more kisses that left them both silenced. Cora scooted back to the edge of the sink a second later, hoisting herself up and reaching for Robert's waistband again, pulling him forward until he was close enough for her to pull his jeans and undergarments down a bit. She turned her attention to her own clothes next, reaching beneath the fabric of her sundress and pulling her lace panties off with a quick flourish. Cora crooked her finger at Robert, beckoning him even closer so that she could deposit the lacy underthings in his shirt pocket so that they could continue.

No longer teasing him now, Cora wrapped her legs around Robert's waist and pressed herself against him until she could feel him almost painfully hard against her leg. "Ready for takeoff, indeed," she giggled. And a second later her lips found their way to his neck, sucking gently as she murmured soft, utterly scandalous things into his ear.

Robert did not have a particularly strong grasp on his reflexes, still feeling rather jittery, and now rather excited, and his hands grasped randomly at Cora's thighs, running up and down her silky skin until his fingers reached her bottom, pulling her closer to him and supporting her weight as he lifted her from the sink and pressed her up against the door. His words tumbled out in unintelligible phrases of pleasure and matched the sounds Cora made as he pressed her against the door and let his tongue explore the curves of her neck.

Cora released a breathy moan as Robert's weight moved against her, easily holding her up, and he pushed into her, his hands reaching to pull her dress up until it pooled around her waist, draping over her thighs and brushing against Robert's abdomen as he continued to thrust in and out.

Caught up in the intoxication of their heated coupling, neither noticed the rhythmic bang the door produced each time Cora's back pushed up against it, along with the creaking noise of the floor as Robert's thrusts became more frenzied. Release was not long in coming, and though Cora bit her lip to keep herself quiet, she writhed above him, her body tightening in response before relaxing against him and murmuring his name. Robert followed soon after, but was far less discreet than Cora. His cry sounded almost like a pained moan and he pushed Cora up against the door one final time, producing a loud thudding noise.

Robert held her up against the door for another minute, his arms wrapped around her back in a tight embrace as she pressed feather light kisses to his temples and forehead. He was just about to let her down when a forceful knock from the other side of the door startled them out of their reverie. The bewildered expression on Robert's face was too much for Cora to take and she dissolved into giggles, taking a second to compose herself before calling out "yes?" in question to the rather brisk knock.

It was the voice of a flight attendant, asking if there was any trouble.

Cora stifled another giggle before assuring the person outside that there was no trouble whatsoever. Wiggling out of Robert's grasp, Cora reached down to zip up his trousers quickly as he set about adjusting her dress for her. They exchanged a conspiratorial grin, Robert winking giddily, before Cora opened the door.

They were met with the very annoyed expression of the flight attendant who had provided them with the champagne.

"Sorry…we…" Robert attempted an explanation but was still stumbling over his words.

"Sir we do not allow more than one person in the rest room at a time," the woman explained, her eyes narrowed at them both. "And it is against the law to engage in activities of a sexual nature on an aircraft."

Robert caught a glimpse of Cora's bright red blush and reached for her hand, looking back to the attendant before them. "Sorry," he repeated, still unable to control his amused expression.

Cora rolled her eyes again and grasped his hand more firmly. "My friend here was not feeling well," she explained. "We're going back to our seats now. We apologize for disrupting you." And not waiting for an answer, she led Robert back to their seats, collapsing back into hers with a relieved sigh and eyes alight with mischief.

Robert slid into his beside her and turned to look at her, confusion written all over his face.

"Don't you feel better?" Cora asked. She reached up to touch his face, her fingers brushing over the rough of his cheek. He looked upset, though, and she was at a loss as to why.

"Cora, I'm not your friend—" Robert interrupted, ignoring her question completely. He looked deep in thought for a moment before his expression brightened. "I'm your boyfriend, and you are my Cora," he explained happily.

Cora's smile was approving and she nodded slightly, resting her head back on his shoulder, mirroring their positions from earlier. "I like the sound of that," she murmured softly, settling into his embrace. She said nothing else and her even breaths a few minutes later told Robert that she was asleep. But he did not mind, as only a moment later, Robert too was asleep.

* * *

Robert and Cora slept soundly for the rest of the flight, only waking when the flight attendant announced they were beginning their final descent. Neither had any idea what time it might be, and Robert's watch was left back in the townhouse, along with both their cellphones and various other things they had deemed extraneous to their relaxing holiday.

But it did not really matter what time it was, because as they pulled up the flap covering their window, they saw bright skies as the voice speaking over the plane's announcement system declared that they had reached their destination. "Welcome to Turks and Caicos," the friendly voice finished with, and they kissed in celebration, jumping slightly as the wheels of the plane touched land.

A short ferry ride later found Robert and Cora at their hotel; an exclusive resort complete with private villas called Parrot something or other. Cora was too overwhelmed by her surroundings to remember the more finite details. Robert was acquainted with the owner, an old friend of his father's who happened to reside in London as well. He had called in a favor on their way to Heathrow hours earlier, and now they were being driven up a private path toward their very own private escape.

The bungalow was incredibly well appointed and secluded as well. The young man who dropped their bags in the foyer smiled kindly at them but Robert noticed his appraising glance at Cora and was rather glad they would soon be on their own. And indeed, after quickly explaining the hotel's complimentary butler service and offering them a list of other amenities, he took his leave.

By the time Robert looked up from putting his wallet away, having given the young man a generous tip, Cora had already wandered off to explore their new surroundings. He chuckled and set off as well, first finding the kitchen and a chilled bottle of champagne waiting for them.

Robert poured two glasses and continued to the bedroom where he found Cora standing by the open door, gazing out at the beautiful lush exterior. She looked far more relaxed than she had in London already, and gratefully took one of the glasses he was holding. Neither spoke for several moments and they were both content to sip their drinks and take in the warm tropical air. Once Robert finished, he took their empty flutes and set them on the bedside table, flopping down onto the large plush bed with a content sigh.

"Come lay with me?" He reached out his hand but Cora shook her head.

"Oh, no, Robert. I am not spending our first day here in bed," she replied with a knowing smirk. The bed did look terribly comfortable and she was a bit tired, but judging by the look in Robert's eye, sleep was not what he had in mind. She grabbed his hand and tugged, hoisting him back up and giving him a consolatory kiss before skipping off toward the bathroom to change into her bathing suit.

* * *

It was Cora who suggested they go down to the hotel bar. Robert had looked at the large bed longingly, attempting to mask his disappointment, and went along with her suggestion but he did not see the point of trudging all the way back to the main building when they had a villa full of alcohol and very comfortable looking furniture all at their disposal already.

The bar was quiet and not very crowded. The bartender explained that they happened to be visiting during an off week and they would likely have most of the facilities to themselves. The few odd people that did wander in and out made for enjoyable people watching and Robert and Cora sat back in relaxation. They had no work to trouble themselves with and their families, who by now had likely realized their departure, had no way of contacting them anyway. So they focused their energies on the absurdly large frozen cocktails, complete with tiny umbrellas, which the bartender whipped up for them instead.

"It's called _loves in paradise," _the young man laughed. "Careful, they are very strong." He turned his attention back to the bar and left the young lovers, freshly acquainted with paradise, to their drinks.

After working their way through almost all of their drinks, Robert reached for Cora's hand and pointed out toward the beach, deciding that a walk was most certainly in order. After his cocktails on the plane, he was feeling a bit overindulged and if going back to the room was not an option yet then a little fresh air would certainly do them some good. But Cora had not had enough yet, apparently, and grabbed her oversized glass in one hand and grasped his with her other.

They wandered down the beach for a while, chatting about nothing and everything. Robert could tell Cora was becoming increasingly intoxicated but she was in very good spirits and he was not about to ruin her fun.

Still sipping from her drink nearly twenty minutes later, and halfway down the beach, Cora stopped mid conversation and looked up at him, her skin oddly pale and her cheeks bright red. "I don't feel very well," she muttered, dropping his hand and sitting right down in the sand. Robert reached instinctively for his cellphone to call back to the hotel for assistance, only to realize that neither of them had cell phones, and looking around they were quite alone.

He dropped down beside her and grasped her hand, brushing the hair away from her face. "What's wrong?" He tried to sound calm, but alarm bells inside him were ringing wildly. She looked rather green now, and a second later she lurched forward and vomited right on the sand.

"Oh God," He looked horrified, running his hand in soothing passes across her back but Cora only groaned slightly and looked up at him with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I don't feel well." She frowned and attempted to stand, but stumbled and fell right onto Robert's lap instead.

"It's alright, it's alright," he repeated quickly, hoping that if he said the words they would prove true. He shaded his eyes and looked down the beach, judging the distance. They really had no other option and so he stood, reaching down to swoop Cora up into his arms, and carried her back toward the hotel.

After a torturous walk in the very hot sand, a walk that they had to pause twice so Cora could vomit again, they reached the hotel bar. The bartender only looked mildly concerned and said something about their strong drinks and the hot day. Cora was no better, though, and Robert was becoming increasingly worried. She was slumped against his chest as they waited for the transportation back to their villa and kept murmuring apologies against his chest.

* * *

It seemed an eternity later, but they finally made it back to their bungalow a short while later. Cora, still too weak to walk, had to be carried and Robert felt his arms about to give out by the time he made it to the bedroom and safely deposited her in bed.

"Cora, darling, are you alright?" Everything was clearly not alright, but all his words seemed ineffectual and Cora was curled up in a painful looking position on the bed, perspiring and squeezing her eyes shut.

She shook her head and grumbled something that sounded like _water_ and so Robert dashed out of the room and returned with a pitcher. She took the cup with a shaky hand and drank it down but seconds later had to jump up and run for the bathroom, the sounds of her getting sick again reverberating through their room soon after.

"I'm so sorry," she said, exiting the bathroom. "I shouldn't have drank all that." She crawled back into bed and tugged at the ties of her bathing suit and cover-up. "Could you bring me my pajamas?"

"Of course." Robert was glad to have a useful task and pulled out various articles of clothing from her bag until he happened upon the nightwear. Wanting to be as helpful as possible, he very gently set about untying her suit and pulled it over her head, then pulled her bottoms down as well. Cora looked exhausted as he slipped the flimsy nightdress over her head and she collapsed back against the pillows.

"Oh, no. I think I'm going to be sick again—" she groaned, moving to sit up again.

"No, I've got it," Robert replied, more calm now. He stood and wandered out of the room momentarily, returning with a bowel from the kitchen and fresh water. Cora looked as though she might cry, and wiped at her eyes as he handed her the supplies. "All set," he explained cheerfully. "We'll be just fine. And you look lovely, even with a slightly paler complexion."

"Don't flirt with me Robert, not now, I look awful," she teased, lying back down. "But you could stay with me for a while?"

"Of course." Robert kicked off his shoes and slipped into bed beside her, wrapping an arm loosely around her shoulder just in case she needed to make a quick exit again. But soon after he adjusted the pillow behind her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Cora's eyes closed and she fell right asleep.

Robert sat very still and held her close, watching each breath she took as she slept. He knew he could lie awake for hours just watching her. He'd never felt anything quite like it before, but the desire he had to protect Cora was stronger than ever. He could take care of her, even when she was sick, and he would be right there waiting until she woke up.

And so he settled into the bed and inched closer, reaching for her hand.


	10. Ten

_A/N: I am so, so sorry that this update took so long! I'll try to be better. I've had a very busy semester at school and so most of my free time has been completely eaten up with extra work. And I'm still catching up on reviews...but I love you guys for writing such awesome comments and such! _

* * *

He knew it was wrong and against what the entire trip stood for, but Robert found he could not help himself. It had been seven days in paradise, literally a trip more perfect than he could have imagined, and Cora had been absolutely wonderful—but he was a Crawley, raised with a cloud of responsibility and duty hanging over his head. And so he found himself slipping out of bed, begrudgingly out of Cora's soft arms and bare skin, to sneak off to the small office in their bungalow.

It had been another glorious day. A late breakfast in bed followed by a long walk on the beach and massages back at the hotel. Returning to their bungalow after it all, he had planned to spend the evening wrapped up in Cora, business and life back in London the farthest things from his mind. But when he dug to the bottom of his luggage to find fresh clothes after getting out of the shower, the slight glint of his iPhone caught his eye. It had been stowed away at the bottom of his luggage ever since they left London. Bringing it with the excuse that it could help in an emergency, Robert had thrown it in as an afterthought. He never intended to turn it on, and certainly never intended to do any work.

But there it was, looking up at him, reminding him of all they had left behind. Reminding him of his responsibilities and of the tasks he had been set. In leaving their worlds behind, he had put others at risk, and the realization weighed heavily on him. He tried not to let it bother him, tried to let the nagging voice in the back of his head (that sounded remarkably like his mother) simply fade into background noise. But as their evening wore on, it only got louder and more insistent.

He knew Cora noticed something was off.

She asked several times if he was feeling alright, and at one point even reached across the dinner table to press her palm against his forehead, feeling for his temperature. Eventually his assurances that all was well seemed to assuage her, but the look in her eye made it clear she was still watching him curiously. Their quiet dinner finished soon after, and they made it back to their bungalow where dessert and a hot tub awaited them.

But the nagging intensified.

Even as they sipped champagne and Cora's hands toyed with the drawstring on his bathing suit, it intensified. Her hands and nails scraping down his abdomen and her lips seeking out his helped as a momentary distraction, but as soon as they slipped beneath the cool sheets of their bed, pleasantly spent from their exertions, it nagged at him once more.

He tossed and turned for hours before making the decision.

Just a quick check of his emails and all would be well.

So he slipped out of bed, padding across the room and down the hall in the direction of the office.

* * *

Eight hundred and fifty three emails chased down by one hundred and three missed calls and forty one voicemails.

Eight hundred and fifty three messages staring back at him. And the hope that they were all spam was quickly squashed after scrolling through and reading some of the subject lines. He sat hunched in the corner of the small office realizing just what they had done. The messages shouted at him, all expressing their displeasure in his sudden and childish departure, and he felt his hopes of returning to bed—and to Cora—dashed away rather quickly.

_Subject: Robert Crawley, is your intent to ruin the family?_

That one was from Mama. Understated, of course, and not a bit overly dramatic.

_Subject: Conference call about minimizing press. Urgent. _

From Bates…what on earth? Apparently they were all conspiring to end his vacation.

_Subject: Robert! Call me! _

Rosamund. Always a fan of excessive punctuation, it looked as though he had several missed calls from her as well.

_Subject: Request for comment or official statement._

This one from…Richard Carlisle's secretary.

Robert felt a pang in his stomach that immediately unsettled him. Clicking on that last message, he scrolled through and scanned the words lit up on his screen. _"Request for comment….story regarding you and Cora Levinson….multi page spread…future of your business and personal relationship in question." _

He clicked delete before even reaching the bottom. Let them all talk, he muttered angrily, standing up and pacing the small room. The very last thing he would ever do with his and Cora's relationship was comment publically on it. No, he had no desire to let anyone into their private world, the perfect bubble they'd worked so hard to create. To sully it with their prying eyes and unclean hands would ruin everything.

He clicked on Bates' message next.

"_Robert, Cora's mother has spoken to the press. She is not happy. Details leaked all over the place, including some less than flattering insinuations about you. Please, please call me. We need to sort this out as soon as possible and think about releasing an official statement."_

Robert looked out the window, at the starry sky reflecting light onto the pool, and had a fleeting thought to throw his phone right out the window. Their lives, he knew in that moment, were not only topics of conversation—they were not their own. If their relationship was going to work, it would mean a battle to push everyone out. But a battle had never scared him off before, and thinking of Cora fast asleep in the bedroom, he knew it was a battle he was willing to fight.

He clicked off his phone and hid it in the desk drawer. It could all wait for one more night. Resolving to deal with it the next day, Robert ran a hand through his mussed hair and trudged back off to bed.

* * *

The following day brought more sunshine and tropical air, but Cora woke knowing something was not quite right. She had grown used to waking up in Robert's arms, as he had a rather adorable habit of wrapping his arms around her and wiggling up as close to her as he possibly could before falling asleep. Even in his sleep he remained close, and it made her feel so very safe. But she woke to Robert asleep at the very edge of the bed, clutching a pillow instead of her waist. She studied what looked like lines of worry etched into his forehead for several moments, wondering what could possibly be grieving him in the midst of their paradise. He had seemed so blissfully happy and content until yesterday. He was still sweet and gentle with her, but it was so blatantly obvious that something was bothering him, even if he was loath to admit it.

Their morning and afternoon the previous day had passed quickly, the bulk of the day spent on the beach, and by evening she was quite sure there was something important driving him to distraction. Perhaps it was too much time spent together, she mused. Spending every moment together had been wonderful, but she was not naïve in believing that Robert would not want a bit of time to himself as well. And if she were honest, the notion of some quiet time on her own did not seem all that horrible, anyway.

For there had been something pulling at her thoughts as well, and had been for several days. It started a few afternoons earlier when she rifled through her handbag in search of some sunscreen. Tucked in the very bottom, wrapped in a scarf, she could see the outline of her iPhone. She hadn't meant to bring it along, truly she hadn't, but—well, if there were some sort of emergency, she would need it! She had only been doing the responsible thing by taking it along, really.

She had simply tucked it back down into her bag, planning to not give it another thought. But, that had not exactly worked out. The knowledge of it being there made her feel rather guilty. They had decided to get away from everything, promised that it would be just the two of them. And she felt even worse knowing that her mother, and countless assistants from the family offices, had likely been trying to reach her.

And when Robert still seemed in an oddly contemplative state, even a day later, Cora resolved to unburden her own mind and simply check her messages—just once of course. Perhaps once Robert went to sleep.

Sleep, though, was not easy coming for either of them. It was strange, almost as if he was waiting for her to fall asleep, and even with her eyes closed, she knew he was peeking at her every so often. They tossed and turned for a while, neither interested in activities of a more romantic sort, until Robert sat up with a sigh.

"I am going to walk down to the hotel and get some aspirin, I've got a headache." He explained, reaching to turn on his bedside lamp but avoiding her face.

"I might have some Advil somewhere in my bags—" she offered, but when he shook his head no, she remained quiet. Perhaps it would give her just enough time to check her messages and put her silly worries to rest.

"No, I'll be glad of the walk," he replied quietly, finally turning to face her. He smiled and leaned over, kissing her lips quickly before hopping up and grabbing his shorts from the chair in the corner of the room.

Cora smiled, waving slightly at him and leaning back against the pillows. She closed her eyes and listened to his footsteps down the hall, and the click of the front door opening and closing. It still surprised her how familiar his movements sounded. And with her eyes closed, it was easy to picture them back in London—or New York, even—padding around their house and settled into a life.

She waited several minutes before sitting back up, confident that he was likely half way to the main building of the hotel already. Cora crept out of bed, fished her phone out of her purse and turned it on, feeling a flicker of concern as the screen lit up in welcome. It took several tries before realizing that her phone was unwilling to connect to any sort of Internet connection. And once it froze up completely, she threw the useless thing back into her bag, contemplating her options. She could go back to bed and wait for Robert to return, or simply go to sleep, but eyeing the phone at the bottom of her bag; she knew those weren't really options, not anymore at least. She needed to check her messages, to assure herself that she had left nothing of importance behind, or it would bother her for days to come.

There was an office in the bungalow. A small one but, if she remembered correctly, it did have a computer. Pursing her lips decisively, she grabbed the phone and set off to settle her mind once and for all.

* * *

"_Bates, what is this about stories being leaked? I cannot comment—"_

"_Robert? Where the bloody hell are you? Do you know how insane you've been acting? Traipsing off to god knows where, with some girl you barely know—"_

Calling John had been strictly out of necessity. He had mulled it over all day and decided that it was the most direct way to get more information about what precisely was going on in their absence. But judging by his tone right off the bat, the adage "no news is good news," was perhaps more correct than he once might have thought. He felt guilty lying to Cora, but knew she would ask fewer questions if he simply said he was going to the hotel building. And so he left, only to sneak around the side of the bungalow and enter the office through the sliding glass door.

"_I simply want to know what your email was talking about."_

"_Jesus, Robert, you've no idea what has been going on? Your mother is beyond displeased. Aside from the exorbitant amounts of money removed from one of your bank accounts, she has had absolutely no word from you! And I've been trying to clean up the mess, but Carlisle has been on this story relentlessly. There are pictures of you and Cora splashed all over the papers, calling you a fortune hunter and her a dumb American who fell for your great scheme."_

"_I—it isn't like that and you know it."_

"_No? Have you spoken to her about that paper work she sent to you, weeks ago? Is she still planning to invest? Do you have any idea how this will look—"_

"_We haven't spoken about that. It has been put on hold, indefinitely. I will not speak to her about anything of that sort. Perhaps when we get back to London…" _

"_Robert! There isn't any time for that. Carlisle is still publishing and—" _

A high-pitched scream jolted Robert from his thoughts and his phone call, startling him into a standing position that nearly caused him to drop his phone. He whipped around, half expecting to be attacked, only to find Cora clutching her chest.

"_I've got to go." _He muttered into the phone, not waiting for a reply.

Cora removed her hands and hung her head back, taking a very deep breath. "Oh, my God, Robert. I thought you were a burglar. What on earth are you doing in…" her voice trailed off as her eyes fixed on his phone, and she looked at him with a raised brow.

"Cora, I…" He paused, considering a lie but deciding against it. He couldn't protect her from reality forever, and the sooner she knew what was going on in their absence, the better. "I was checking my messages and speaking to Bates." He replied after a pause.

She nodded and entered the room, sitting in the desk chair and looing up at him. She paused as well, remaining silent for a moment, before sliding her own phone out from the pocket of her robe. "We're well suited, I suppose," she explained with a smile, laying it on the desk before them. "Perhaps it was silly to think we could run away from it all?"

"No," Robert knelt beside her and pressed a kiss to her bare knee. "Not silly, just optimistic." He took her hands and stood, pulling her up with him. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you."

With his hands pressed into hers, Cora relished in how strong his felt. She reached up, threading her hands around the back of his neck and leaning in to kiss him. "My poor Robert," she murmured, "the harsh realities of the world have certainly not been kind to us. But I understand better than anybody could and you don't need to protect me all the time."

He hummed his agreement into her hair, the soft lavender scent filling him with contentment. Pulling her close, their bodies completely pressed together, he held her for a long while, assuring her that everything would be all right. "I'll take care of it, I promise, Cora."

She was more than happy to remain in his embrace all night. But his words, though quiet and confident, were slightly confusing. "Take care of what exactly, Darling?"

He stiffened against her, feeling his muscles tense up as he remembered his phone call from only moments earlier. Yes, being honest would include telling Cora what he'd learned. They could face it together, then. Cora did understand him better than anyone, as she did not prompt him to say anything at all. Instead, she took his hand and led him back to the bedroom, grabbing a throw blanket from their bed before opening the doors to the exterior deck. Still holding tightly to him, she pulled him outside to the hammock on the corner of the deck. She nodded at it with a smile, holding the blanket up as he situated himself on it first. She followed, lying beside him and wrapping her arms around him as they put the blanket over them to guard against the cool night air.

"This is better, no?" Cora asked, the tips of her fingers drumming against his shoulder.

"Mhmm—perhaps too much so, you'll have me lulled to sleep in moments with this divine excess," Robert grinned. The air smelled of flowers and the stars sprinkling the sky made him feel so very small, but so very content.

"Well, I'm an American. I don't share your English hatred of comfort," she murmured. Giggling softly, Cora leaned up, hoping for a kiss. Robert most happily obliged. "I could stay like this forever," she added, tucking her head beneath his chin.

* * *

They talked for nearly an hour, limbs and words entangling as they lay in the hammock. It was easier, in a way, to formulate a plan and talk business when so close together. And once their talk faded to whispers, and then silence, it was a welcome position to be in, still.

They rocked in silence as the air floated around them, encapsulating them in their own little world once more. Cora hummed softly against his chest and every so often Robert leaned down to press his lips against her forehead and hair. Her arms around him made him feel needed, strong and capable. She gave him purpose than he'd never known before, and in her eyes he saw a future.

Their future.

"Cora," he sat up, careful not to jostle her as he did. It was clear, clearer perhaps than anything had ever been, and though his heart was beating fast against his chest he felt steady beside her.

She looked up at him in question, her bright eyes blinking open lazily and her lips curling into a soft smile.

"Cora," he repeated, the iterance of her name assuring what he already knew.

"Yes?"

"Marry me."


	11. Eleven

Time passed.

First one second.

Then two.

Then three.

And then…

"_Yes."_

It took several additional seconds for the word to sink in. Robert was used to hearing the word, as he was rarely denied anything, but in that moment he knew _yes_ was the most wonderful word in all the English language. He was still processing the magnitude of the situation when Cora flung her arms around him, nearly toppling them both right out of the hammock as she cried out with happiness.

Realizing they were in a slightly precarious location, Robert motioned for Cora to stand, and followed her up a second later so he could embrace her properly.

His Cora, his fiancée.

If he had doubted the impetuous decision even for a second, the brilliant smile on her face would have assuaged any worry. But all he could think, standing there, was how incredibly perfect it was all going to be. Cora began crying, still holding tightly to him, but laughed loudly when he picked her up and spun her around—then set her down to kiss her soundly on the lips.

"Are you sure?" She finally murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes brimming full of excitement.

"Positive."

"Really?"

"Absolutely." He nodded and kissed her once more to confirm the point.

And so they said no more about it, only linking arms as they nearly skipped back inside. Champagne was popped and countless kisses shared as they murmured their excitement and mused about the best flavors of wedding cake. There was no room for worry or for the harsh realities brewing back in London and New York. For now, all they could do was be happy.

It was several glasses of champagne in before either of them considered what might happen next. Lying awake in bed, sheets wrapped loosely around them both, it was Cora whose reverie seemed to lull first.

She rolled onto her side, scratching her nails lazily across Robert's chest. "I suppose we need to make some sort of plan?" Her tone was soft and contemplative, her fingers drawing patterns similar to the twists and turns erecting in her mind.

"A plan?" Robert repeated. In the haze of happiness and champagne and celebration, anything beyond her _yes _seemed extraneous. She had said yes, and so everything would just have to fall right into place.

"Yes," she murmured. "I mean: do we want to stay in London or New York? And where will the wedding be held?"

Robert looked down into her eyes and noticed a dream like quality he'd never before seen. She looked so very beautiful, his fiancée. Her words, like tiny injections of reality, seeped into his mind. London…New York…their families. Suddenly, not everything fell so easily into place. Unless—

"Tomorrow."

Cora sat up and turned more toward him, looking confused. "What about tomorrow?"

"Let's get married tomorrow."

Cora giggled, at first thinking herself in on one of his silly jokes. But the look on his face coupled with the way he was holding her hand, well, she realized rather quickly he was not kidding at all. "Robert—that is a mad plan! We…we cannot get married tomorrow!"

He smiled, sitting up as well and kissing her softly. "Why not?"

Cora looked at him, the man she had fallen so hard for. The only person she could picture a grand sort of future with. He looked so very pleased and his smile and touch conspired to make her wonder, too, why not? But she already knew why not. And she knew that he knew why not. There would be scandal and hurt feelings and anger if they did this. If they shut the world out of this, well, there would be some unhappy people waiting for their return.

Robert knew she was conflicted. He could tell by the way she bit her lip and looked down at their entwined fingers. She was thinking of a way to tell him no, a way to convince him to do the responsible thing. But if they waited, did the responsible thing and returned to London to announce an engagement—it would be only a matter of time before everyone tried to break them apart.

So he inched closer and kissed her again, letting his lips convince her of what words could not; that he would make sure she was happy, safe and protected. He could do all that, he was sure of it. She murmured something unintelligible that was soon lost between them, any sort of rational thoughts dissipating as his tongue parted her lips and slipped into her mouth. After ending the kiss, Robert leaned back and grinned. With the tenacity of a little boy intent on carrying out a big plan, he sat cross-legged before her and tried to sound as rational as he possibly could.

"Now that the summer season is over, they'll expect you to go back to New York," he reasoned. "But, if we return and are already married, it is us who'll dictate our lives, not our families."

Cora nodded slightly, understanding his logic but still unconvinced. "Robert I want to, but—"

"It would be wonderful, Cora. Just think, the two of us on the beach, perhaps at sunset? We don't need anything else…we have all we need right here already."

Her heart was pounding against her chest, each beat warning her of making a major mistake. It would be irrevocable. The aftermath of it all would be a flurry of emotion and she could just see the look on her mother's face. But he seemed so very sure. So positive that it would all be just fine. And his hands felt strong and capable, holding hers. So she believed him.

"Alright," she whispered, unable to contain a wide grin any longer.

Robert's face lit up and he pulled her close, kissing her cheek and promising that it would be wonderful. He was still smiling like mad when she wiggled out of his grasp a moment later, tickling his side playfully.

"Oh, Robert, you know I love you so very much. And you're right we don't need anything else. It'll be perfect." She smiled once more and leaned in, hoping he would kiss her again and say something similar to what she had just admitted. She did love him so terribly much. The words had never actually passed between them, though she knew he felt the same. But when she leaned in just a bit more, the second before she closed her eyes in anticipation of his lips, she could swear she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

Instead of getting another kiss, she felt his hands brace her arms, holding her back as gently as he could. He smiled again and kissed her cheek before standing, nearly jumping, actually, out of bed. "I—it's going to be wonderful," he offered. "I'm going to call down to the hotel right now to make the arrangements.

He rushed right out of the room.

She watched him go, still grinning to herself, but wondering why something felt slightly less perfect than it had only moments earlier. Wrapping herself up in the bed sheets, she leaned back against her pillow and pushed the tiny seeds of doubt as far down as she possibly could. It would be wonderful. It would be perfect.

* * *

Upon trying to return to their bedroom, Robert found the door locked. Explaining that it was absolutely bad luck to see the bride on the night before the wedding (and being unwilling to admit they had technically already broken that rule) Cora explained that he would be spending the rest of the night in one of the spare bedrooms.

He had stayed up for a long while, tossing around in the unfamiliar bed. Without Cora he could sleep right in the middle like he used to, but somehow it did not feel comfortable anymore. All he could think of were the words she spoke with such ease, such reckless abandon, as if they'd been on the tip of her tongue since the moment they met.

_I love you so very much._

They words replayed themselves over and over. He memorized the sound of each letter as it came out of her, the movement of her lips and the way she had looked at him. And he said nothing. Ever a foolish excuse for a romantic, he had blubbered something about ringing the hotel. It would be a miracle if she still wanted to marry him come morning.

And it was foolish, because surely he did feel the same. At least he thought he did. The last ten years had included a string of not so successful romances—if that term could be applied very loosely—and each woman he dated had affirmed the fact that love was something elusive. He'd no idea what it felt like. Was it deceptive to let her believe that their feelings were exactly aligned when he was barely sure what proper love felt like? But would she still marry him if he admitted that fact?

That was not a risk he was willing to take.

Even thinking about the possibility of losing her sent his stomach into a state of upset. Closing his eyes and picturing her face produced the most wonderfully excited sensation and each time they were together his heartbeat would quicken. It was enough; it had to be enough. She would hate him forever if he tried to reason that they should get married without knowing for certain the depth of feelings between them. And he would do anything to avoid hurting her. He would make her happy and give her the world to ensure it was all wonderful and perfect. It would have to be. And eventually the lingering doubts would just fade to distant memory because she, Cora Levinson, soon to be Crawley, was so very wonderful and perfect.

* * *

By the time Cora woke the next morning she found herself in an empty bungalow. Not that she expected to see Robert, as she had explained quite clearly they could not see one another before the wedding, but she was rather surprised that he had managed to get up and vacate the premises so early. She found a sealed envelope on the kitchen counter, her name written in his small and precise handwriting.

_Cora, _

_As promised I have gone out for the morning so I do not accidentally catch a glimpse of my beautiful bride. I've included some instructions for the day and I very much look forward to seeing you this evening. –Robert_

Behind the short note were a few scribbled instructions that seemed to make no sense at all. But by the time Cora got dressed and was ready to actually prepare for the evening, there was a knock at the door: it was a concierge sent by Robert to take her down to the hotel and prepare for the day.

And so she set out, leaving herself at the mercy of his careful planning.

* * *

The woman tending Cora was young and enthusiastic. She drove down to the main hotel building, chatting the entire way about what a popular wedding destination the hotel was. She quieted considerably when Cora explained that the wedding had been decided upon the previous night, but her pep returned as soon as she led Cora into a private suite at the resort, filled with wedding dresses, shoes and accessories.

"Where on earth did all of this come from?"

The young girl, Ethel, grinned proudly and explained that Robert had arranged for some of the shops in town to send things over for her. "Would you like to try some on?" She reached down into the pile and produced a few lacy undergarments followed by a slip.

Cora nodded, and took the proffered clothes running her fingers over the delicate lace and tulle laid out before her. Tiny sparkling beads and handcrafted appliques were covering most of the garments and reminded her of things her mother would choose. She smiled, knowing that the selection in small shops on a tropical island would likely be small, and simply resolved to wear a sundress she knew was packed in her luggage if nothing here seemed quite right.

The first gown had an unfortunately large bow attached at the back.

The second had rhinestone butterflies surrounding the hemline.

The third, fourth and fifth were all far too large.

By the time she managed to extricate herself from the mountain of fabric dress five contained, Cora began to wonder if perhaps the wedding would simply have to go on without a proper wedding dress. Not that it was particularly important, she supposed, but everything else was turning out so unconventionally that she had clung to the idea of walking toward her future husband in a dress that would take his breath away.

She and her mother had never been very alike. Martha's idea of mother-daughter bonding included expensive shopping sprees in Manhattan, chased down with martinis and talk about the most eligible bachelors in the city. She always explained that marriage, for Cora, would be a way of securing a future and a powerful position. She explained it without emotion and with a firm tone. But often, during these shopping trips, they would happen to pass a wedding dress shop, frilly white gowns hanging in the window. And she would catch a glimmer of wistfulness in her mother's eye. The dress was important. It was silly and commercial and no doubt exorbitantly priced, but it needed to be right. Because if it even drove her mother to sentiments of emotion and romance, well, it was very powerful indeed.

"There's one more, but I'm not sure it's what you're looking for," Ethel explained, pulling one final gown out of its dress bag.

The young girl frowned slightly; as the gown was a shade just off of white, but Cora turned and was met with what she knew was the most perfect gown for their perfect day. Smiling and wiping away a stray tear she reached for the hanger, holding it up in front of her before the mirror. The soft off-white fabric draped gracefully, the neckline drawing out a deep V. The shoulders, V-neck and back of the dress were stitched with delicate flowers, making it look impossibly romantic. It was soft and feminine in a way most women would aspire to be on their wedding day and made her feel graceful. Yes, it was perfect and it the only thing she could imagine becoming Cora Crawley in.

She beamed her approval, nodding at Ethel and fingering the delicate fabric once more.

"It's exactly right."

* * *

By late afternoon Robert was decamped in the hotel bar. Staring at the glass of scotch before him, he tried to stop thinking about what was about to happen. Every time he pictured it, standing at the altar, or on a mound of sand, standing there with Cora, he felt more terrified than he had in his entire life.

The morning had been spent filling out paperwork and paying fees. He had sat in the hotel business office with some official looking people who explained the process of marrying in a British owned island. He'd signed countless documents and written several checks until they presented him with the actual marriage certificate.

Hand shaking, he signed before allowing himself a second thought.

It would all be just fine.

It would be perfect.

They had finished up all the logistical details late in the afternoon, leaving him time to get ready and have his last drink as a single man as the couriered the paperwork to Cora for her to sign as well. Back at university, he and his friends had often joked about the wild bachelor parties they would all plan for one another some day. Sitting alone in a bar on some tropical island seemed slightly off course. But just as he was about to order a second drink and quell his worry with alcohol, he thought of Cora again. Of the way she looked at him and the way he felt with her by her side. And her words echoed again: _I love you so very much._

Settling his bill, Robert stood and headed back into the hotel. It was time to dress for the big event and he did not want anything clouding his memory.

He wanted to remember every single moment of this day.

* * *

The moments, the ones he wanted to remember so very much, passed in a blur rather quickly. He tried to study his surroundings as he moved from the hotel down the beach path toward the location the staff had prepared, but all he could think about was Cora. It did not matter that the sun was just setting and there were tiny candles lighting the path of the "aisle." Nor did it matter that he was wearing a very expensive new suit and had two gold bands in his pocket.

The only thing that mattered was that, moments later, Cora began to walk toward him. Wearing a beautiful dress and holding a bouquet of colorful flowers, she looked luminous. And those moments, each step she took toward him, he knew he would remember every day for the rest of his life.

The ceremony was brief.

Their hands were clasped together for the duration, and their eyes locked as well.

They repeated traditional vows, making broad promises meant to cover the entirety of their future together.

They exchanged simple gold bands, the only jewelry available on such short notice, and shared a smile as their hands shook slightly, each slipping the ring on the other, nerves betraying their smiles and excitement for the briefest of moments.

Seconds later they were pronounced man and wife.

Mr. and Mrs. Robert Crawley.

And they kissed.

With the sunset and waves behind them, they wrapped their arms around one another and kissed to seal the promise. The officiant congratulated the young couple, and left them in the sand to relish in the moment. There were a few hotel staff members lingering in the background, to snap a few photos for them and serve as witnesses, but they only had eyes for each other as they clasped hands and looked out at the water.

In just a handful of moments their worlds had officially collided.

* * *

"So what now?" Cora smiled, questioning Robert but never taking her eyes off the new ring adorning her finger. Robert, too, was busy admiring his new gold band but looked up to bask in the utter joy on his new wife's face as they walked along the beach.

"Well, now we celebrate," he explained. Cora had been so caught up that she barely realized Robert had been leading her through the sand for several minutes. It was not just a post ceremony romantic walk on the beach; he had planned something. And as they approached the small candlelight cabana he arranged for, complete with their own butler, a very elaborate looking dinner and several bottles of champagne, Cora knew he had taken great pains to make sure everything was perfect.

Robert smiled as he led his wife to the table, his stomach doing a summersault each time he mentally referred to her as _his wife. _They raised their glasses in a toast just as the sun set completely, giving way to a brilliantly lit starry sky.

* * *

_A/N: Don't worry, the wedding night will be included in the next chapter :)_

_And if you'd like to see the inspiration for Cora's dress, I'm putting the photo up on my tumblr page (modernamericangirl . tumblr . com) _


	12. Twelve

Cora had been to countless wedding ceremonies and parties over the years; being a socialite leant itself rather well to receiving invitations from people you barely knew. There had been elaborate fetes at the Plaza Hotel in the springtime, beautiful galas at Newport beach houses in the summers and wild extravagant events on heated rooftops, overlooking the city come winter. She had been to them all, always filing away tidbits of each that she liked in the hopes that someday she could use them when it came time for her own wedding. The likelihood of Martha allowing her to actually plan the event herself was slim, but still she filed away various color schemes she liked and certain styles of wedding dresses she thought would look particularly flattering on her.

So when Cora found herself arm in arm with her new husband, stumbling back toward their bungalow after their own private reception on the beach, a half empty bottle of rum in hand, she did for a moment wonder how this all fit into her original plans. And as her husband staggered along, being careful to hold her hand the entire way along, she wondered if perhaps they had missed out on the elaborate cakes and centerpieces and countless presents. But that thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind when Robert paused mid walk back and pressed her back against a stone wall along the path, his lips quickly finding hers and the taste of alcohol on his tongue making her breathless. Every extraneous detail, that she once may have thought mattered, seemed of little importance when he wrapped his arms around her and whispered adorations into her ear.

* * *

"Would you like another drink?"

Cora watched as Robert gestured toward the bar in the sitting room and rested their rum on the counter. His eyes were bright from the liquor and as he sat beside her she could feel the heaviness of his movements. "No, I don't think so," she replied softly, kissing his cheek as he settled in beside her.

He looked at her curiously but said nothing, only leaning in to kiss her properly, his tongue prodding against her lips a handful of seconds later. She wondered again for the briefest of seconds if perhaps drinking to excess on one's wedding night was advisable but when Robert reached over to pull her into his lap her thoughts were interrupted and could soon only focus on the feel of his body beneath hers.

"I'm so glad we got married," he murmured. His breath was warm against her neck and caused her skin to pebble at the contact. His hands were busy fiddling with the buttons up her back and his words seemed an afterthought to his present actions, as if he kept forgetting they had in fact just come from a wedding—their own, no less—and the only evidence was the white dress keeping him from touching her skin.

"Are you glad? Are you really?" Cora heard her own words ringing in her ears and was suddenly embarrassed to have even spoken them. She was never one who needed reassurances, always confident in her decisions, but when his eyes didn't move from their fixed location—the buttons on the side of her dress now—she felt she needed him to say it again, needed him to reassure her just once.

"Hm? Yes, of course," was his passive reply, his features busy twisting into a look of frustration as he was once again rebuffed by her buttons. "But it won't count unless we consummate it, after all," he added, chuckling at his own inadequate fingers.

Cora moved off his lap, stilling the ineffectual passes he was busy making over the fabric, and began undoing her own buttons silently as he sat in momentary silence. "Is something wrong?" He inquired after a pause. At least he was perceptive enough to notice her change in mood, she noted. "We'll get the hang of it eventually," he replied to her silence, laughing and reaching out at one of the buttons again.

"No, I'll do it," Cora replied, swatting his hand away. She stood, turning her body at an uncomfortable angle to reach the side clasps.

"You're…upset?" Robert stood, too, both confused by her face but pleased that he seemed to have identified the proper emotion.

"I'm not upset. I—I'm just a little nervous," Cora allowed, finally looking up at her husband.

He seemed equally baffled by this admission. "Nervous? But it's not as if we haven't…" his voice trailed off, and she could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was trying to figure out whether he had missed some element of the conversation.

"But we haven't! Not like this at least."

"But not unlike this, right?" Robert laughed again, still trying to pull some humor out of the situation.

"Am I not allowed to be nervous, Robert?"

"Of course you are. But I don't want you to be. I just want us to be happy."

"I _am _happy," she replied much more softly, reaching out to take his hands and twine her fingers together with his.

"Good," he grinned, stealing a kiss and pulling her flush against him, "because I'm so happy, so very happy that I feel my chest might explode." He grinned once more and swept her up right into his arms, carrying his bride off to the bedroom.

His arms felt strong around her body and when he rested her down on the bed, the bed that had become theirs over the last several days, she felt a twinge of anxiety easily suppressed by feel of his hands and body beside hers.

"You're so beautiful," he said quietly, kissing her again and moving to unbutton his shirt without unlocking their lips. She felt him fidget beside her, desperately attempting the ungraceful action, and thought he might shout out a cheer when he was successful and threw the shirt onto the floor. His chest was warm and tanned from their time spent on the beach but the familiar tracks of his rippling muscles and skin somehow looked different now; as if she were seeing everything with fresh eyes, Cora set out to relearn the way their bodies fit together.

Robert seemed to have a different plan.

Cora felt his arms reach beneath her and, a second later, roll her over until she was perched on top of his chest. He began guiding her body lower, silently communicating what he wanted, for them to be together, but Cora was quick to stop him, rolling over until she was laying beside him and looking into his eyes.

"Can we just slow down a little?" She whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek again. He nodded in agreement and kissed her, his mouth still cloyingly sweet from the rum they'd both imbibed.

He seemed to understand what she needed, as he almost always did, and pulled her closer to him, letting his fingers curl at the nape of her neck and stroke the skin there. He whispered her name before kissing her again and then pressed himself against her, their bodies both warm and limbs loose.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in his gentle touches, murmuring, "Robert, I love you so much," into the quiet of the room. Expecting to hear the words to be repeated back to her, Cora opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. The odd look painted across his face unnerved her, and she could feel his hands instantly still against her hips.

Then, as if realizing his present situation again, he smiled and opened his mouth to speak, though words did not follow for several seconds. "You're so beautiful," he replied, the words sounding contrived as he'd spoken them only a while earlier. "Perfect. You're so perfect, I mean." Correcting himself, he leaned down again and pressed his lips to the delicate skin on her neck, effectively silencing himself as his entire body pressed more deliberately against her again.

And for some inexplicable reason, perhaps through no fault of Robert's, no fault of her own even, Cora wondered if the words he didn't say were left unspoken because he did not feel the same way she did? Her stomach flipped at the prospect; it was an unsettling, foreign concept that she had never carved out any space for in her mind.

If he didn't love her, well, that changed everything.

Perhaps she should have pushed him off of her and demanded an explanation. She considered briefly what would happen should she press him to say the words that rolled so easily off her own tongue. He would likely tell her what she wanted to hear, if she put him on the spot. Robert was good and kind and she knew more than anything that he would never want to hurt her. He would say that he loved her. But then she would never know the truth, never know if his feelings were as genuine and deep as hers. It was easier to pretend that he was simply caught up in the moment and in their passionate coupling. Easier to believe that he was just stoic when it came to verbalizing his feelings and that he loved her so very much that he could not possibly put into words how much. All those possibilities seemed easier to bear than the one staring her right in the face. And so she pushed all the doubts out of her mind, as best she could, and swallowed her worries along with a deep breath to fortify herself.

Robert was still kissing her neck, but his hands had moved from her cheek to her shoulder, and she could feel his fingers playing with the strap of her sheer undergarment. Seconds later he successfully unlatched the garment and moved his hand beneath the fabric, letting his hand palm over her breast and his fingers graze over the nipple. Shuddering at his touch, Cora instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and arched into his body. She closed her eyes once more, and relished in the feel of his hands pulling the garment down her body, his hands following and cupping her breasts once she was free of the confining fabric. He touched her gently at first, as if he were afraid of breaking her in some way, but his touches and the pace of their coupling only intensified as Cora groaned with pleasure and clung more tightly to him.

After what seemed an inordinate amount of time spent exploring one another's bodies, Cora having spent the last moments gripping the sheets as Robert's tongue trailed down her body and touched her more intimately, he gazed up at her to silently gain permission before thrusting into her. Hiccupping her pleasure against his throat, Cora hooked her arms under Roberts and mirrored the motion with her legs as they wrapped around his body with her heels resting just above his behind.

As if paralleling their foreplay, Robert moved slowly and with painstaking care at first, rocking gently against her and clearly forcing himself not to get too enthusiastic. He murmured her name and whispered how very happy he was as his fingers worked their way up and down her sides, his body pushing in and out of her still slower than ever. It wasn't until she asked, crying out his name and then nearly begging him to "go faster, please," that he finally dropped his arms onto either side of her and began to move faster.

The buildup to their lovemaking conspired to make the actual event much shorter than it might otherwise be. It was only a handful of minutes before Cora cried out, feeling her body contract around Robert as she reached the height of her own pleasure. Robert followed seconds later, finding release before collapsing beside her, pulling her into his arms but being careful not to overheat her already warm skin.

Neither spoke as their labored breathing slowed back to normal and soon Cora knew that Robert had fallen asleep, his limbs wrapped loosely around her body. She turned to look up at his face and couldn't help but grin; he looked so very peaceful, and snored ever so quietly. Sleep was not easy in coming for Cora, though. Robert's arms around her only made it more difficult to quiet her mind, and her thoughts were a mess of questions and abstract feeling.

They were married now and everything seemed different.

But it was still their wedding night, and Cora was intent on enjoying it as much as she possibly could. And so closing her eyes once more, she curled into her husband's body and rested her head against his chest, willing sleep to come.

* * *

_A/N: I am so sorry about the delay in posting this! In the coming weeks I am going to try to update the story once a week, likely on weekends :)_


	13. Thirteen

_A/N: Hello, friends! So at the end of my last chapter I may have promised to update this story once a week. I swear I'm not usually such a promise-breaker! BUT, summer is upon us and I have much more time to write these days. So I promise that there will be more frequent updates. There will be fifteen chapters to this story, so we're nearly there! Thank you for continuing to read and sticking with the story! _

* * *

Robert watched as the hotel employee loaded the last of their bags into the dark sedan. After tipping the man handsomely for his trouble—he knew, after all, how heavy Cora's bags were—he stood on the dusty front walk, kicking a pebble and awaiting their departure.

He was avoiding his wife, that much he knew. And he knew that she knew it as well.

Their relationship had changed, certainly marriage was bound to do that, but he was not entirely sure if it had changed for the better. They'd drank far too much rum after the ceremony and as hard as he tried to replay the exact details in his mind, he could not quite summon up a clear picture. He remembered how beautiful she looked and how proud he was that she was his wife. He remembered drinking on the beach with her and then walking back to their bungalow. Everything after that was…hazy. But he knew she was not happy. And he suspected it had something to do with his inability to repeat back the words she had been throwing at him almost constantly ever since that night.

_I love you._

The morning after their ceremony, Cora had already been awake when he finally roused himself from bed. Nursing a splitting headache and a slightly unstable stomach, he had made his way to the kitchen in the hopes of breakfast. What he received instead, though, was his brand new wife, sitting expectantly at the table.

She'd said nothing when he set about brewing some tea, and remained silent while he spooned out fruit and yogurt into a bowl as well. It was nearly ten minutes into his breakfast routine when she cleared her throat and said "good morning, my love."

If he'd thought his headache was bad upon waking, it was nothing compared to the nausea inducing pain that shot through him as soon as she spoke. He knew he looked rather like a deer in headlights, and could feel tension brewing in the room right alongside his morning tea when he cleared his own throat and replied, "good morning, Cora."

That had been enough to clear the kitchen, for she only looked at him with a pained expression and stood, depositing her coffee mug in the sink and disappearing down the hallway. He chewed thoughtfully on his fruit for a long while, taking little sips of tea as well, wondering why precisely she seemed to be acting so strange.

Everything became quite clear in the following days, though. He knew she was not pleased. They'd spent three days at the bungalow after the ceremony and each day was filled with a strange mood that neither could seem to shake. Cora was intent on her new appellation for him, calling him "my love" at every turn. And he could feel her eyes on him each time the words passed through her lips, gauging his reaction. Each time she said it only made clearer that he had not. It was as though they had reached a sort of stalemate, and spent their last days drinking—Cora drinking noticeably more than she had the first few days—lounging around on the beach, and doing a lot more sightseeing than talking.

And so here he found himself, standing outside their bungalow, readying himself to take on the real world with a relationship he could feel was already treading water. He was a fool, perhaps, for not articulating his feelings. If it was not love he felt, it was certainly at least a very deep affection. It had to be almost love, and perhaps that would be enough for her? No, he was not willing to chance it. He had made a choice—they had made a choice—and he was not about to risk their relationship just so he could unburden himself. Love would come eventually, he reasoned.

* * *

The ride to the airport was quiet. Well, quieter than the already subdued turn their trip had taken. Cora emerged from the house and got into the waiting car without looking at him, offering a slight smile to the driver as he helped her with her last carry-on luggage. He didn't notice until half way through the ride to the airport that she was not wearing her wedding band. He probably would not have noticed at all, really, had his hand not accidentally brushed against hers. But once it did, he felt he should take her hand; he did not want her to think he was purposely not. And so he smiled in response to her slightly bemused expression and twined their fingers together, letting his brush up and down over her much more delicate hand. He'd made several passes over her smooth skin before realizing her fingers were completely bare, no wedding band in sight.

The realization made his stomach lurch, and it took every ounce of restraint to not blurt out something stupid and impetuous at her. He did the only thing he could think to do, which was to hold tightly to her hand and look out the window.

They arrived at the small airport without any conversation, save for Robert directing the driver to the correct terminal, helping him with their bags, and tipping him for his effort. Robert decided, as they'd approached the airport, that it would be best to just have a quiet flight home and discuss it all the next day when they were both well rested. He had not counted on Cora's frame of mind being so vastly different from his own.

He was busy trying to figure out precisely where to pick up their tickets when, right in the middle of the busy terminal, Cora pulled her hand out of his grasp and let her carry on tote drop beside her. She pursed her lips, looking at him with such upset, and said, "I cannot do this," as packs of tourists and families passed them by.

"You…what?" He found himself, yet again, speechless. His entire life he'd been taught never to make a scene in public, so to have his wife standing in the midst of such chaos, earning curious looks from various strangers, he was not exactly sure what to do.

"I can't do this with you, Robert. I won't." She replied, hardening her stance.

"Cora, what are you talking about? We just need to get our tickets and get on the plane." He knew exactly what she was talking about, though he wished very much that he didn't. He thought if he could feign ignorance and at least get them safely on the plane, then everything would magically be left behind on the island.

"Robert, we deserve better than…than _this. _I deserve more than this. If you don't love me, tell me now. Tell me now and I'll get on a plane to New York and you'll get on one to London." She reached into her pocket, digging around until a flash of gold caught his eye. "If you don't love me, we won't make it." She opened her palm to him, the ring resting in her outstretched hand.

Before he knew what he was doing, Robert dropped his own bag to the ground (only considering for a brief second how dirty the floor was bound to be). His head was spinning, actually spinning, as he shook it emphatically, grabbing at the ring so he could put it back on her finger. "No, no, no. Cora, no. I know things haven't been quite right…I know I've been…" he trailed off, his fingers shakily attempting to place the ring on her as he racked his brain for a plausible explanation. "Please, Cora. I love you so much. Please don't leave me." He looked up imploringly into her eyes, having successfully returned her ring to its rightful place, and clutched desperately at her.

She looked stunned and was silent for a moment, both of them seemingly unaware that they were still in the middle of the airport terminal. He watched a range of quick emotions pass her face, and he realized that she had prepared for him to let her go. It pained him, the realization that she was so unsure of his commitment, and he vowed right then that she would never feel that way again. He would do anything to prevent the tears he knew she was about to cry.

And as he knew his wife better than he might be willing to wager, he was correct in that fact at least. Cora threw her arms around his neck, releasing a painful sound as she began to cry. He stroked her soft hair, whispered quiet endearments to her and pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, ignoring the staring strangers all around them. He wanted her to be happy again. He only ever wanted her to be happy. And he knew now, more than ever, if that meant saying _I love you, _then that is what he would do.

Eventually, he promised himself, he would say the words and mean them.

* * *

It was some time before they were deposited safely on the plane in their comfortable first-class seats. Cora, abashed, had apologized almost immediately for her outburst and smiled widely when he assured her that he was the only one who needed to apologize. He felt a stab of guilt when she rested her head against his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his neck, murmuring, "_I love you" _over the hum of the plane. He closed his eyes and attempted not to wince as he replied in barely a whisper, "I love you too."

They fell asleep soon after take off and it was several hours before Robert woke, realizing that his wife was not beside him. He stood, panic immediately rushing through his body, and asked the nearest flight attendant where she'd gone. He blushed deeply, feeling like an imbecile, when he was informed that she was in the restroom. Cora returned a few moments later with two glasses of champagne in hand and still wearing a wide smile.

"I'm glad you're awake," she said as she sat back down, handing him one of the glasses. "I wanted us to have at least one more toast before getting home and back to real life." She smiled again, another brilliant expression of love that stabbed him with guilt.

He only nodded and raised his glass, swallowing the growing feeling that he'd lied to her. "To us," he offered. Cora shook her head in agreement and clicked her glass to his, taking one long sip and reaching for his hand.

"I'd like to talk about something, now that we're nearly home." She looked at him and waited for a nod of approval before continuing. "Before we go back to the house, I want to stop at the London offices of my family's business. I want you to sign those investment papers I had sent over weeks ago." She took one more sip of her drink and waited for him to answer.

"Cora, I—" He paused, taking a very large sip of his champagne, and released her hand so that he could turn more fully to her. "I think we should let things settle first."

"What is there to be settled?" She asked. "We're married. Soon all my things will be shipped over from New York. I love you and you love me. Everything _is _settled. It makes perfect sense for us to merge our business interests."

"I don't want you to feel as though you're obligated to—"

"Robert, please!" She interrupted. "You needed an investor and your wife wants to invest. Please, don't over think it."

He nodded slowly, wondering if he would be able to talk her out of it before they landed. He had a feeling that she'd already given it a great deal of thought. He couldn't do it; he couldn't take her money after already claiming her body, her heart and the rest of her life. He felt so very guilty.

"Good. So we're in agreement." Cora smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "Now, finish your champagne," she instructed. "We're nearly back to London."

* * *

Cora had not been embellishing her enthusiasm for their joint business interests when she outlined her plans on the plane. Almost immediately after the car picked them up on the curb at Heathrow she informed the driver that they would be making a short stop. She supplied him with the address of her family's office—somewhere in the heart of the city—and then sat back into the soft leather seat and leaned against him. She ignored his protests and insisted that they needed to get it done before going home. She insisted that she would not be able to relax properly until she knew it was all settled officially.

The office was bustling when they arrived unannounced and the experience of walking into the main waiting area was an odd parallel to their morning at the airport—for he could feel people staring curiously at him. Cora fluttered around the office with the ease of someone who was there all the time, and asked sweetly for the company lawyers to be called up so that they could sign the papers and be on their way.

Robert sat as inconspicuously as he could in the corner of the waiting area, drinking water from a small paper water-cooler cup and fiddling with his iPhone. He shot off a quick text message to his sister asking a rather large favor, just as they were called into a back office.

It took a remarkably short time to sign away ten million dollars.

He and Cora were back in the car on the way to the townhouse only about thirty minutes after being called into the office. He knew the lawyers were sizing him up when he walked in and they'd begun outlining the documents. He remained nearly silent, only nodding in understanding every so often, until one of the men interrupted and requested that they see an official marriage certificate. Robert stood, frowning deeply, and had started pacing the room. Cora was truly prepared and pulled the document from her purse as he muttered something about mindless legal representatives who had no right to question the legality of their marriage. It was as if he were some cheap trophy husband who was trying to cheat her out of money. He'd never felt quite so out of place and was more than grateful that after only another ten minutes and three signatures that they were released.

* * *

Robert held Cora's hand as they walked wearily up the townhouse steps. It was nearly dinnertime and they were both feeling the effects of a long day of travel. He chuckled when she sighed dramatically, insisting that she was ready to crawl into bed and spend the next five days there, and promised he was more than willing to join her as he fished his keys from his back pocket.

"Oh, wait!" He said brightly, remembering something just as the door clicked open. Cora looked at him curiously, but shrieked with laughter as he swooped her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the door. "We must do some things properly, Darling." He kissed her soundly on the lips before releasing her and closing the door behind them. "My, there is a lot of post here," he muttered, eyeing the large pile the maid left. He was if nothing else, a creature of habit who thrived at home. He felt more relaxed than he had all day, and was incredibly glad to be back in his space.

Cora only laughed at his concentration on the post, tossing her carry bag and jacket onto the entryway table. She began walking down the hall, flipping on some light switches as she called behind her, "Robert, the post can wait, your wife needs you for something!"

"Oh? And what pray tell is that?" He called back, still sifting through the mail.

He looked up just as Cora turned back, a wicked grin on her face. "I've had a sudden burst of energy. Come carry me off to bed and we can consummate our marriage once more for good measure."

Robert grinned widely, dropping the mail and making a run down the hall for his wife. The post could most certainly wait. Cora giggled madly as he came rushing down the dim hall and turned for the sitting room, just several paces behind her. "If you want to do naughty things to me you're going to have to run faster—" She called over her shoulder, disappearing around the corner.

"Naughty? Cora, if you mean that thing we did in the hot tub I do hope you remembered to pack the rest of that—"

Robert was still shouting mid-response when he made it to the sitting room in the very back of the house. Expecting to find his wife already stripped half-naked, he'd begun to undo his own buttons along the way. But Cora was standing at the entrance to the room, looking as white as a sheet.

There was no need to ask what was wrong, for as soon as he looked beyond her shoulder to the well-lit sitting area, he felt the color drain from his own face.

"Mama?"

He stepped into the room tentatively, taking Cora's hand. His mother was reclined in his favorite chair, balancing a cup of tea in one hand as she stared at his wife. It was several seconds before he realized that his mother was not alone. Sitting in a chair opposite the table was a petite woman with dark red hair and bright blue eyes that looked oddly familiar. She looked almost like…

"Mother." Cora breathed.

"I am sorry to have disrupted your fun, Robert," his mother interjected, standing from the chair. "But it seems that the four of us need to have a little chat…"


	14. Fourteen

It was Cora who broke the silence drawn over the room, taking a seat beside her new husband and turning to her mother.

"Mother, how lovely to see you," she said quietly, her jaw tightening in protestation.

Robert watched the woman who looked so much like his wife, his mother in law he supposed, turn as well and fix a steely gaze on Cora. She took a long sip from her teacup before nodding in response. "Cora, I had half a mind to send a search party for you, but I see that you have apparently been well taken care of."

Robert noted both the irony in her words and the anger in her eyes; she only turned her attention to him after staring at her daughter for another few seconds. "And you must be Robert. Aren't you going to kiss me hello and introduce yourself properly?"

He watched his mother wince at the woman's crude introduction and thought it a miracle that she did not say anything in response.

"Yes, uh, of course. With the greatest enthusiasm," Robert replied, standing to kiss the woman awkwardly on the cheek. "It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. Levinson."

"You may call me Martha, dear. After all, you have so ably carried off both my daughter and my money."

"—Now wait just a moment!" Robert winced as his mother stood, outright indignation painted across her face. She clanged her teacup down against the table and glared at Cora's mother. "You know nothing of my son or my family and I will not sit here listen to such utterly ridiculous statements."

Martha pursed her lips but nodded, sitting back down beside Cora, clearly unwilling to argue the point. She gazed up at Violet, who was still standing in stark opposition to Robert, and looked almost amused by the utter displeasure radiating from her body. He could tell Martha had already experienced her fill of his mother.

"Robert," Violet continued, ignoring the women seated on the couch beside her, "I understand a little youthful indiscretion may happen from time to time but we can solve this rather quickly—"

"Mama, you are not helping," he replied softly, hoping to diffuse the already volatile situation. "Please, since you are both here," he continued, nodding at Cora's mother as well, "you obviously know that we are married. I do not wish to upset either of you, but—"

"Robert, is she pregnant?"

Violet seemed scandalized by her own accusation, but interrupted him nevertheless. Robert was too busy gaping at his mother to notice Cora's horrified expression, but he heard the slight gasp she made from behind him. He knew how it pained his mother to make a scene in front of people and was quite sure he would absolutely never hear the end of it once she had him alone. But there was really no time for deep thought on the matter as she once again interrupted his sputtering denials and tried to ask again.

"Mama! That is quite enough."

"No, Robert, you have done quite enough! What have you dragged us all into? I cannot imagine you would make such a hasty decision unless motivated by something out of your control. We can handle this quickly with a positive outcome for you both—there can be papers drawn up by the morning and no one needs to know about this little stunt." Violet was pacing now, much like her son often did in moments of intense stress, and Robert could tell his mother was on the verge of a complete outburst. Willing himself to stay calm, he stepped forward and took her hand, practically begging her to listen.

"Mama, Cora is not pregnant and there will be no annulment." He was about to continue but was interrupted, yet again, but this time by his new mother in law.

"I think we can settle this all very quickly. May I ask you a question, Robert?" She stood, though she was much smaller than him, and looked right into his eyes.

"Yes, of course you may." He replied with slight trepidation.

"Do you love my daughter?"

"Do I—I'm sorry, what?" Robert felt his face blush and the collar of his shirt suddenly seemed much tighter than it had only seconds before.

"Do you love my daughter? Because if you do, well, then I have wasted a trip to London. If you love her, our family will not interfere. But if you do not, and I find out that all the tawdry things written in the papers about you and your company are true—that you've pursued her for her money—I will see to it that you sign those annulment papers your mother is talking about and I'll make damn sure you never see a cent of that money."

Robert heard Cora hiss _Mother _as Martha sat back down, but she said nothing beyond that, leaving him to defend himself to both their mothers. It was one of those moments that authors wrote of in books, or a slow motion scene that movies so frequently depicted. He could feel beads of sweat coursing down his neck, and the intense gaze of the three women all threatening to unravel his last coherent thoughts. But through the haze of abject terror, he remembered the silent promises he made to take care of his wife, the promise he made to never upset her the way she had been only a handful of hours before. He had promised and he was not a man who was in the habit of breaking promises, or so he liked to think.

"I love your daughter very much." The sentiment was blurted more than coolly explained, but he said it with such hurried enthusiasm that nearly anyone would believe it to be fact. Cora's face lit up in the corner of his eye and he watched as her mother nodded slightly in approval. "I love her and I promise that I will do everything in my power to take care of her," he added, feeling his initial statement too weak to stand up to the firing squad before him.

"Well," Martha replied, "that settles that."

* * *

It was another two hours before Robert ushered his mother and mother in law out the front door, one headed to her house some miles away and the other off to one of their hotels. The four of them had spent the remainder of the visit, and visit was a term he used very, very loosely, discussing what his mother described as "the plan." The plan appeared to be that their families would be hosting a very large party as soon as possible to announce their marriage and show the world how terribly supportive everyone was of their union. It was to be in London, hopefully within a fortnight. They had spoken no more of money or feelings; everyone was content to focus all their energies into party planning. It was certainly a nicer subject than the one that lingered in the room—because he knew that everyone still silently questioned his motivations, even, he suspected, his wife.

Cora's face had lit up at the prospect of a formal event to announce their marriage, and had clapped with excitement when her mother promised that all her friends from New York would most certainly be there to celebrate with her. But he knew Cora far better than he had days, weeks and even months before now, and he could see the far away look in her eye when her mother asked her questions about their wedding ceremony and what they planned to do now to settle into a life. He knew she still did not trust him completely with her heart.

It was the quiet vibration of his iPhone that drew him out of his musings, as he waited for Cora to exit the washroom and come to bed. Glancing down at the screen he grinned, despite his lingering fears and hesitations. It was a text message from his sister, only one line that instantly boosted his mood—

_Mission accomplished. Be at my house by ten tomorrow. X_

He looked up again a few seconds later when Cora returned to the bedroom, smiling softly at him as she climbed into bed. She said nothing but drew herself under the covers and pressed herself into his side, resting her head against his shoulder with a gentle sigh of contentment.

"We've had a very long day," she murmured.

Robert placed the phone on his bedside table, careful not to jostle her, and nodded in agreement. "Longer than usual. Cora, my dear, I have to go out tomorrow morning."

Cora tilted her head up to look at him. "Mmm, well that's rather sudden. I thought we were going to spend the weekend getting reacquainted with the house and…" she trailed off, grinning up at him.

"I'll only be gone for a couple hours. Then perhaps we can go for a walk in the park and get some lunch?" He reached across her to shut the light, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he settled into her embrace.

"That sounds nice. Wake me before you go?"

"Alright, darling, I will." Robert smiled, his lips still pressed against her forehead, and kissed her once more before closing his eyes.

It seemed their night had taken a decidedly less passionate turn but Robert did not seem to notice; he fell asleep only moments later, feeling more comfortable in his bed than he could ever remember feeling.

* * *

Robert found himself on the doorstep to his sister's flat only a handful of minutes late the next morning. Cora had insisted on making him breakfast which proved to be a more laborious task than he anticipated. She had been halfway through making a batch of pancakes when she realized that there was neither milk nor eggs in the house. Breakfast had been scratched in favor of coffee, and he set out to Rosamund's soon after. He told Cora he was going off to a business meeting and decided that a small fabrication was not really a lie if it were for her benefit; he wanted his surprise to remain just that and Cora staying in the dark for a bit longer was absolutely necessary to ensure that it did.

His sister grinned with delight upon opening the door and practically pulled him inside. Enveloping him in an uncharacteristically enthusiastic hug, she kissed his cheek and congratulated him on their marriage.

He realized that she was the first one to do so.

"Brother dear, you are going to owe me until the end of eternity for this little favor." Rosamund giggled her patently _Rosamund _laugh and reached for his hand, dragging him in the direction of the kitchen. He knew it had been a lot to ask of his sister but he also knew how his mother could be sometimes and he was unwilling to compromise on this particular detail pertaining to his new marriage.

And as Rosamund led him into her kitchen and he saw the small velvet box resting on the countertop, his heart did an odd sort of flip and he knew he had made the right decision.

"You're quite certain Mama does not know?" Robert picked up the box eagerly, though almost afraid to open it and see the contents for himself.

Rosamund nodded, handing him a glass of water. "I'm sure. I used my spare key to get in and there was no one home. But Robert, you better tell her that you've taken Grandmama's ring to give to Cora before she realizes it's gone and reports it stolen!" She laughed again but Robert knew the truth in his sister's words. Going behind his mother's back to take the engagement ring was certainly not going to win him any points. But his father had promised the ring to him for whomever he chose to marry and it was not for his mother to determine whether or not Cora was worthy of the jewelry. He had decided that she was, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll tell her, I promise…"

Robert gazed down again and opened the small box, inspecting the brilliant diamond ring as he plucked it from its velvety perch. He'd not seen it in many years but it was just as lovely as he remembered it being. And looking down at it, so small and delicate in his hand, he knew that he wanted Cora to wear it always—as a symbol of their marriage and her entrance into his family.

"Robert?"

When he looked up, Rosamund was peering at him curiously, a slight frown drawn across her brow. She sat beside him and smiled gently, reaching out to pat his hand.

"Are you quite alright?" She smiled again reassuringly, as if willing him to relay all his deepest darkest secrets. Rosamund had an uncanny knack for getting people to tell her things, and he was no exception.

"Yes," he nodded. "I'm fine. It's just—"

"Just what?"

"Rosamund…I don't, that is—I mean…" He paused, the words caught on his tongue once again. For to say them would be to confirm the thoughts hidden in the darker places of his mind, the thoughts that could remain vague and abstract if left unspoken. "What if I don't love her as much as she loves me?" He finally allowed, in a very small voice. "I'm terrified that I'll let her down."

His sister pursed her lips, her expression unreadable. She stood, removing her hand from his arm, and wandered to the back of the kitchen—returning a few seconds later with a bottle of scotch and two small glasses. "Now," she said, pouring two servings, "I think you need to explain things to me."

* * *

Robert had not meant to spend the entire afternoon at his sister's house. He had not meant to polish off an entire bottle of scotch with her and he most certainly had not planned on standing Cora up without so much as a phone call.

He had a vague feeling, as he walked along the dark sidewalk on his way home, that he had done something wrong. But he'd not felt so carefree in weeks and so he continued the walk with the large diamond ring tucked in his pocket, only superficially aware that Cora might be upset with him. But it seemed not to matter, for he'd realized something far more important than a minor disagreement and was eager to get home and tell her.

Upset turned out to be a rather large understatement.

He'd been stranded on the front step, desperately trying to fit his key into the lock when the door swung open, leaving him face to face with his wife. Cora was still dressed in the outfit she'd shown him early that morning, the outfit she'd chosen for their picnic, but he could tell even in his impaired state that she had been crying. She said nothing and only glared at him, stalking off down the hall after pushing away his attempt at a hug.

"Sorry I didn't call you. I was doing something that I couldn't tell you about before but now I can," Robert explained clumsily as he followed her into the bedroom.

Cora remained silent, climbing back into bed and looking down at the magazine she'd been halfheartedly flipping through before his return. She looked up at him, finally, after a long pause. "I wish you hadn't lied to me. It would have been easier if you had just let me go back to New York at the airport," she replied, no longer even curious as to where he'd spent the day. It was clear, she decided about an hour after they were supposed to meet and he didn't show, that they had made a mistake.

"No, no I didn't lie; I don't want you to go back there," Robert answered, climbing onto the opposite side of the bed and trying unsuccessfully to remove his shoes. He looked up almost pathetically when Cora reached across to unlace them for him. "If you go back there, I will go with you," he added, reaching out to take her hand as she removed his other shoe.

"I don't think that is a good idea. Our mother's were right. I'm not going to force you to pretend you're not unhappy; you'd rather spend the afternoon drinking yourself into a stupor than spend it with me," Cora replied evenly, though her voice began to crack on her last words.

"Cora, please, just…just listen?" Robert waited for her to nod before continuing. "I went to see my sister because I needed to pick something up. Something for you. And I want you to know that I—"

"Robert, just stop." Cora interrupted him, wiggling out from beneath the bedclothes and stepping onto the floor. "I'm not going to listen to any more. I'm likely to get drunk just from the alcohol on your breath. We both deserve better, and I can't talk to you when you are like this. I'm going to sleep on the couch." Cora held her hand up and shook her head when he tried, in vain, to interject, and he only watched dumbly as she balled up one of the throw blankets and walked out of the room with it.

Robert finally fished the ring box out of his pocket, just after watching her leave, but paused before standing to go after her. He knew she was right; they both deserved better. Well, she deserved better, he wagered, and a drunken husband whose feelings had been ambiguous at best was absolutely not worthy of the woman he had been lucky enough to marry. She deserved more than his alcohol soaked apologies.

* * *

When he awoke several hours later, it was to a dull ache in his stomach that he knew had nothing to do with the scotch he'd imbibed. Sitting up and untangling himself from the sheets, Robert realized he was still holding the ring box in his hand. The lights in the bedroom were still on and when Robert caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he cringed.

She deserved better. He would be better. He had to be better.

After washing up and changing into fresh clothes, Robert padded out to the sitting room only to find Cora fast asleep and curled up on the settee. Not wanting to wake her, he sat on the floor beside her instead, studying her face intently as she slept. He reached out to twine his fingers through her dark curls and traced feather light fingers over the slope of her nose and chin.

He wondered if it had been inevitable from the start, falling in love with Cora. His life before her had been easy and uncomplicated. There was no one to answer to and no one whose feelings needed to be considered at any length. But he'd known it after talking to Rosamund, and known it for certain as he walked home to see her.

He loved her; in his own bumbling, belated, and intense way, he loved her.

It was not the fear of losing her that forced his hand into a grand declaration. In fact, it felt anything but forced to tell her now. It was, he understood, the fear of losing their life together and the realization that somewhere between meeting in a crowded club and the long walks on the beach holding her hand, he'd lost his heart to her. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he never wanted it back.

He waited to wake her until the first few rays of sunlight panned across the floor, highlighting Cora's beautiful face with a soft glow of morning light. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he murmured her name quietly until her sleepy eyes blinked open and fixed on him.

She was likely surprised to see him out of bed, assuming that a hangover would have him incapacitated for most of the day, and even though her expression was one of slight trepidation, Robert felt a boost of confidence when she did not pull away.

"You're awake," she replied, uncomfortable in the silence of the room and with the intensity of his gaze.

Robert nodded, inching closer as he stood from a kneeling position and sat beside her on the settee, careful not to sit directly atop her stretched out legs. "I was watching you sleep," he replied matter-of-factly. Realizing it was a slightly odd statement, he added, "there is something I would really like to tell you."

Cora mirrored his gesture and nodded her assent, sitting up more fully so that she could listen.

"I've never…" He paused trying to collect his thoughts. He was determined that this would not be another misfired attempt at explaining his feelings properly to her.

"Is anything the matter?" Cora ventured, looking at him with such unguarded affection that he nearly felt himself break down into tears. He knew again, looking into her eyes, that there were no words adequate enough to express himself to her. He had so much to explain and so much to make up for.

"Nothing," Robert chucked slightly. "Except that today has shown me I am not only a worthless man, but a bad tempered and ungrateful one." He looked up from their entangled fingers and hoped she understood, even in a small way, how terribly sorry he was.

"Robert, I—I don't understand."

He nodded again, words failing him as a lump grew in his throat. Deciding to let actions speak instead, he reached down into his pocket, pulling out the small box, and handed it to his wife. "For you," he managed.

Cora looked at the box curiously, quite sure it was a ring, and opened it after the briefest of pauses. Stifling a gasp, she looked at him wide-eyed for some sort of explanation. "Robert, you didn't have to buy me a ring; I don't want you thinking just because I was upset that you need to go and—"

"—My grandmama's." He interrupted quietly, "it was my grandmama's ring. I went to see my sister yesterday to pick it up. You're my wife now and I want you to have it; it's only right that you have it."

Cora shook her head ineffectually, her eyes traveling from her husband's face to the glittering bauble in her hand. "Robert, I can't accept this…"

"Yes, you can," he answered gently, picking it up from her palm and sliding it carefully over her ring finger, "I love you and I want you to wear it."

"Please don't say things you don't mean," Cora pleaded softly, finally looking away from the ring and back to Robert. She was not sure she could handle another letdown.

"If I've ever meant anything in my life, Cora, it is this: I love you. I love you more than I thought myself capable of. And I promise you that I will spend the rest of our lives together ensuring your happiness."

"Robert—" Cora pursed her lips again, looking down at her new ring.

"No, please, before you say anything; I just want one chance. I only need one chance to prove that I am serious, Cora. I will not let you down. I'll kick myself for all of eternity for not realizing it sooner, but now that I have, I will never make the mistake of taking us for granted, of taking you for granted."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

And with one small word, a word steeped in dreams and hopes and diamonds, he knew that they could make it. It was a more palpable closeness than it had been on the beach when they vowed never to leave one another. This time it was softer, gentler, and tinged with a disillusionment that could only give them more space to grow. Robert carried his wife off to their bed where they spent the early morning hours sharing whispers and secrets and things passed only between two people in sweet, ordinary, fantastical, love.

* * *

It was Cora who finally had to extract herself out of bed and make her way into the center of the city for lunch. She had a meeting she had actually completely forgotten about until her phone so helpfully _dinged _in remembrance just as she and Robert were about to make love for the second time.

She blushed only slightly at this memory as she entered the tiny upscale café, her mind still fixed on her handsome husband she'd been forced to leave behind. But her mother in law had insisted that it be only she and Cora at lunch and so she begrudgingly left Robert to wait for her.

Meeting Violet was not something she particularly wanted to do, but the previous night at the end of their little impromptu meeting with their mothers, Violet explained that they would need to meet to go over the details of the party. Martha, having already booked a hair appointment at one of the more exclusive London salons, only shrugged when Violet suggested they hold the meeting without her.

And so she found herself face to face with the woman who so clearly wished to send her back to the Colonies, as she so humorously referred to America, with a snap of her fingers.

They managed to make it through a salad course and a glass of wine each before Cora felt that Violet was watching her more intently than she had been only moments before. Drumming her fingers nervously against the wine glass in her hand, Cora continued to talk about how she would really prefer the flowers to be alstroemeria as opposed to roses. But midway through her explanation, Violet reached across the table, grasping roughly at her hand.

"Where did you get this?" Violet hissed.

Cora looked confusedly at her until she realized Violet's eyes and grasp were fixed on her new ring. "I—Robert gave it to me." Cora sat perfectly still as Violet stared at her, muttering something unintelligibly quiet before standing and walking in the direction of the powder room without explanation.

Cora watched until Violet was out of sight completely.

She did not see her new mother-in-law pacing the length of the powder room, or hear the way she cursed her children for being so incredibly stupid. She did not see, nor would she ever understand why, Violet nearly crushed her mobile phone as she pounded several numbers into it in quick succession.

And she most certainly did not hear Violet ask for "Miss Jane Moorsum," when the person on the other end of the call finally picked up.


	15. Fifteen

"Robert, we can't stay in bed any longer; we're going to be late for the party."

Robert was lying in bed, his arms wrapped snugly around his wife, and the absolute last thing he wanted to do was rise and get ready to attend the party their mothers had managed to organize in a handful of days. He sighed, knowing that soon Cora would simply push him right out of bed, and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. All he wanted was to stay in bed with her, stay in bed and shut out the rest of the world.

"Robert?" Cora ventured again. "Come now, please don't sulk. The party is for us, after all." She carefully extricated herself from his arms and sat up, running a hand absentmindedly through her tousled hair. Her eyes locked on his a moment later and he looked away, frowning slightly.

"I told you I don't want to go." He replied simply.

"We have to go," Cora answered, laying back down beside him and snuggling close, attempting to pull the blankets out of his clutch.

"I don't want to," Robert smiled. He was toying with her, he knew, but playing in bed with Cora seemed far more preferable than dressing in an uncomfortable suit and spending an evening with people he had absolutely no interest in entertaining. And so he grinned, kissing his wife once more before pulling the blanket right over both their heads.

"Robert!" Cora swatted his chest playfully, their bodies curled together beneath the newly erected blanket-tent he'd created. "Aren't you glad to have a wedding to celebrate?" She murmured, running a hand over his chest and settling back in beside him. She was not particularly eager to attend the fete, either—not anymore, at least—and truly did not need all that much convincing to stay in bed with her husband.

"Of course I'm pleased to celebrate our marriage, but that isn't what upsets me; you know that," he replied quietly.

Cora pursed her lips. "Yes, I know. But, please, let's make sure it's a great night. If it's to be our last wild wedding celebration, let's make it a wonderful last. Alright?"

Robert nodded but said nothing, only wrapping his arms protectively around Cora as he nuzzled against her neck. She giggled, muttering something about how desperately he needed to shave, but even still, even though he knew he needed to get dressed and ready, he could not manage to let her go. "I just want to stay like this," he finally explained.

"I know, but—" Cora hesitated, pleading silently with him as he peppered kisses over her forehead, cheeks and neck.

"Please, just a while longer?" He knew the party was rapidly approaching, but he also knew he would do nearly anything to stave it off just a bit longer.

Cora hummed her assent just as he felt one of her legs slip between his, her fingers drawing up his chest to get lost in the tangled curls atop his head. She smiled at him, the one look that always seemed to make him feel better, and pressed a kiss to his chin. "Alright, just a while longer," she agreed.

He wanted nothing to do with the evening to come, but for Cora he would attend and he would be polite—well, as polite as he could manage. The idea of a party had not bothered him at first. In fact he and Cora had a rather enjoyable time looking through the countless magazines and color swatches their mother's had sent over soon after their first meeting. Cora had sat him down and explained the unfortunate turn of events during her lunch with his mother, but he chalked it up to her feeling hurt and left out. He never thought his mother would be so angry that attempting to sabotage his relationship would ever cross her mind.

But, apparently, it had...

A few days into planning, he'd received a phone call from Rosamund, who'd managed to sneak a peek at the finalized guest list. She informed him, as gently as she could manage, of whom specifically their mother planned to invite without informing him.

He tried to be calm, tried to not let it upset him, but it was only a short matter of time before he found himself in his mother's office, shouting at her for meddling in his life once again. Her excuses had been empty, and left him with a sinking feeling that she would never understand his choices, would never understand Cora. She had tried to invite Jane without his consent, but he'd put a stop to it and that had to be enough, he supposed.

When he told Cora of his mother's botched plans, she was disappointed but not entirely surprised. They'd nearly cancelled the entire event; he had insisted that he absolutely refused to be in the same room as her until she apologized. But when Cora pleaded with him to reconsider, and explained how much she was looking forward to seeing her friends, he could not bear to disappoint her once more—his family had already done enough of that...

Not bothering to remove the blanket that was still draped over them, Robert closed his eyes and gave in to the tactile pleasure washing over him as his thoughts drifted farther and farther from the night ahead of him. Cora's fingers twining through his hair made his negative thoughts hazy in the cloud of warmth and desire quickly building between them. He felt her lips pressing against his throat, her breath against his skin, and her fingers sliding out of his hair and trailing back down his chest, soon slipping to just above where his belt rested.

It was more than he could take; her nearness and his desire to forget the world around them made him slightly more aggressive than usual and Cora's surprised gasp when he reached down to pull up her shirt pleased him. He was always pleased when his actions elicited such a response from her.

They found themselves in similar states of undress soon after, Cora's jeans and undergarments puddled on the floor beside Robert's own clothes. Pressed skin to skin, Robert relished in the way Cora made him feel—strong, useful, and as though he could carry both their burdens without any effort at all. Her nails scraping at his sides drew him from thought, though, and he blinked his eyes open only to find his wife grinning wickedly at him just before she reached down at bit more, grasping him more intimately.

He nearly laughed, for he knew that to think he held any power over Cora was utterly ridiculous. He was putty in her hands, so to speak. Her fingers stroked over his length and rubbed up and down, tantalizingly slow so that he practically writhed under her ministrations. He bit his lip, letting out a loud groan when she finally released him and moved over him, bearing her body down as close as she could manage before letting him guide her above him, again moving at an achingly slow pace. She touched his face and moved her body gently above his, still not letting him go where he so desperately wanted to. He'd found, over the last handful of weeks, that she rather enjoyed torturing him at times. But what sweet torture it was.

She allowed him to run his fingers up her sides and explore the soft skin up and down her back. He drew lazy patterns over her belly and pressed hot kisses to her neck and collar before turning her over and exposing her breasts, soon pressing gentle kisses there as well as he settled himself between her legs. When he did finally slide into her it was utter bliss. He moved slowly at first, wanting to both savor the moment and prolong their time together, but soon quickened the pace as Cora's soft moans and light touches spurned him on. Pushing into her once, twice, and then a third time he felt himself reaching the edge of his own self-control, and soon enough after a few more quick thrusts he had finished with a satisfied grunt. Cora held onto him tightly, her fingers dancing lightly up and down his arms as she recovered from her own climax a moment later. She peppered gentle kisses against his overheated skin and murmured quietly how much she loved him. He wondered if it could always be like this, if their lives could just stay this quietly perfect forever?

He knew Cora was his best chance at achieving perfect happiness, if such a thing truly existed.

* * *

The black limousine Robert hired pulled up in front of the hotel and Cora felt her husband grip her hand just a bit tighter than he had been during the ride over. After finally removing themselves from bed, Robert had been fairly good-natured about getting dressed and ready to go. But one look at his face told her more than his silence ever could; she knew all he wanted was to go home and never speak of the party again. She knew that he had only agreed to go because he wanted to make her happy. He offered her his arm when he stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. It was a cool night in London and Cora happily took his arm—and the warmth he provided—as he helped her out and led her inside. She hoped that after a drink or two he would be more willing to relax a bit and enjoy the night.

The ballroom was decorated grandly and in a fashion that was indicative of the wealth both their families represented. Tables draped in rich red and gold tones were scattered around the room, framing a large dance floor with a live band set off to the side. There were hoards of people strewn about and Cora felt Robert's hand reach for hers once more when they were led to their seats at the center of the organized madness. Looking around at all the people who were offering them curious stares and smiles, Cora wondered if perhaps she should have listened to her husband after all? But nevertheless, ignoring the anxious feeling at the pit of her stomach, they sat down and made quick work of flagging down a waiter for some champagne.

The first hour of the grand fete passed in relative calm. Cora had settled herself beside Rosamund soon after their arrival and the two had spent much of the hour gossiping about various Crawley family members who Rosamund eagerly pointed out to her. She had lost Robert soon after his sister's arrival; he had gone off to get more drinks, but had not returned. During a pause in one of Rosamund's stories about a particularly frightful aunt, Cora looked across the room to see him sitting at the bar alone; she thought it best if perhaps she allowed him to stew solitarily for a bit. But when she looked up again after yet another story, hoping to wave him over to bring her and Rosamund another round, she saw that he was no longer at the bar at all—instead he was in the corner of the ballroom, talking to his mother. So with absolutely no interest in interrupting that little exchange—something she would no doubt hear of later in the evening—Cora excused herself to go freshen up and then procure them some more drinks.

Cora wandered out of the ballroom and off in the direction of the powder rooms, hoping to reapply some lipstick and a bit of perfume before finding her husband again. He'd had his time to sulk but it had gone on for long enough. It was a party to celebrate their marriage, after all, and she was not about to let him spend the entire evening staring into a glass of scotch instead of into her eyes as he twirled her around the dance floor. He _had _promised her a dance and she fully expected him to deliver.

After making sure she was photograph and dance ready, Cora left the bathroom and headed back to the party. She managed to make it to the bar, retrieve drinks for both she and Rosamund and was on her way to the center of the ballroom when she brushed past a young woman standing a few paces away from the entry doors. Muttering an apology, as she'd nearly walked right into her, Cora continued for another step before stopping suddenly.

She _knew _that woman.

And when she turned around, she realized that _that_ _woman_ knew her as well.

For a split second she thought about going to find Robert and making him deal with whatever was happening, but she was so close and could not force herself to just walk away. And so she approached her herself. "Might I ask what you are doing here?" Cora frowned, trying not to raise her voice as she gave the woman a once over glance.

"I was invited," she replied simply. She had an empty champagne flute in her hand and Cora could smell the alcohol on her breath even from a few feet away. She tried not to roll her eyes at the hideously tacky gesture, arriving uninvited at a party only to get inebriated within the first hour.

"No. No, I do not believe I remember inviting my husband's former girlfriend to my wedding party, so I think you must be mistaken," Cora countered, ignoring the woman's empty champagne flute and still gripping her own glass tightly.

"Yes, well I received an invitation from—"

"You received an invitation that was rescinded, if I heard correctly," Cora interrupted, looking sharply at the woman standing before her. She cared little about the crowd of people still milling around, who were now starting to overhear the increasingly loud conversation.

The woman—Jane, though she though of her only as _that woman—_blushed, looking down at her feet for a moment, as if in defeat, but snapped her head back to attention a second later and looked into Cora's eyes. Cora could see how bloodshot they already were, though she had no idea if it was due to tears or excess of drink. "Robert…he—he won't be happy with you. You hardly know him!" She shouted belligerently, effectively drawing the attention of everyone within several feet of them.

Cora blanched, momentarily unsure of what to say to the woman. But Cora was never long for speechlessness and quickly gathered herself up again, absolutely not willing to allow her to be so publically rude. "Robert certainly has no right to be unhappy and—"

She was cut off once again.

"—But that's not quite the same, is it? Almost, but not quite. You won't make him happy."

Jane stood there, as if she had made some triumphantly profound statement, and glared at her. Cora wondered if perhaps it would be unkind to berate someone so obviously deluded, not to mention so obviously drunk, but decided that it was time Jane Moorsum was taken down a peg or two. Stepping just a bit closer to her, Cora nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation; whether it was laughter to assuage the burning anger she felt or at the simple fact that she towered in height over Jane, Cora was not sure. But she leaned down ever so slightly and replied, "I have always thought myself to be a lady, but if you believe I will allow you to stand here and berate my husband, discount my marriage, and disrespect _my_ _family," _she paused on the last words, knowing that now, truly, for better or worse, Robert's family was hers too, "you are sorely mistaken."

Cora nearly turned around and stalked off, having satisfactorily made her point. She was, for all intents and purposes, a lady, after all. She could walk away and ignore her; she could ignore the woman standing before her who was still so clearly enamored with Robert and who would think nothing of shipping Cora back off to America. She wanted to be the better person; she wanted to walk off and find her husband and pretend that it did not upset her. But there was something in the way Ja—_that woman_ was still looking at her that made her see red; she looked amused, like it was funny in some way that she had come uninvited and attempted to ruin their party—but looked even more amused that she had taken a shot at their marriage. Cora was not amused. And before she knew quite what she was doing, Cora felt her arm reel back and then lurch forward, hurling the contents of her drink all over the woman standing before her.

Jane stood there sputtering, covered in champagne, for what seemed like an eternity before someone approached the group—likely some waiter—and began to clean up the mess and offer napkins to dry the floor. But there was no cleaning up this particular mess, as Jane's inebriation was soon made very clear; she began shouting profanities at Cora, the waiters, and at anyone who happened to be in their general area. Cora thought it best to take her leave very shortly after that, though she did unfortunately hear the continuous stream of screeched insults being hurled at her from the woman she'd just drenched in expensive liquor.

Cora was not exactly sure where she was to go after causing such a horribly embarrassing ruckus at her own party, so she settled for the hallway outside the ballroom. Pacing up and down the floor she wondered how long it would be before her mother-in-law came out and personally had her removed from not only the party but barred from London as well. If she were to guess, she would estimate it happening shortly. And if it was not Violet, it would likely be her own mother who found her so that she could scold her for making a scene and wasting perfectly good champagne.

But it was not Violet Crawley who came running bewilderedly out of the ballroom only a few moments later; it was Robert. And he did not stop running until he nearly crashed right into her, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. Cora said nothing and only fought the increasingly large lump forming in her throat. She did not want him to apologize; all she wanted was for the night to be over, for she and her husband to be curled up together at home and far away from all these people.

Cora wiped her eyes, looking up at Robert after a pause. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you," she managed, speaking softly. He began to speak but she pulled away from him and held up a hand, silencing him so she could continue—"No, please. Everyone in there now knows what a fool I am, why shouldn't you? I've embarrassed us both."

"Cora," Robert reached out and took her hands once more, silently entreating her to listen as he turned her hands over in his own and brought them to his lips, kissing both her palms gently. "I don't think you're a fool. Isn't that enough?"

She shook her head, wishing desperately that he would stop being so lovely and so terribly forgiving. "No," she choked out, her tears finally besting her. "Maybe it should be but it isn't—" she wanted to apologize again but was brought to another pause by a fresh wave of tears and, before she knew it, the pull of her husband's arms around her once more.

"Darling, please…" He continued whispering quiet, sweet sentiments against her brow, his lips pressed protectively against her temple for untold minutes as she cried, utterly embarrassed and still quite angry as well.

"Now I'm no better than her," Cora finally explained, wiping her eyes once more with the back of her hand. "All those people will think me so ill-mannered and not to mention your mother—"

"—Cora, no one thinks badly of you," He interrupted, finally drawing himself back and looking intently into her eyes. "_She _had no right to come here and I am only sorry that I did not find out before you, or I would have handled it. She is gone now and we won't let her ever interrupt our lives again."

"Yes, well, I've handled it quite well don't you think?" Cora chuckled ironically.

"_Yes, yes you have," _replied a voice from behind them both.

Turning around, Cora was met with the unreadable expression of her mother-in-law, who had just exited the ballroom and was standing only a few steps behind them. Robert looked as if he were about to speak, likely to tell his mother to leave her alone, but Cora pressed his hand tightly into her own, silently telling him to let Violet speak. She knew that she would have to face her eventually, and there seemed no real reason to delay the inevitable.

"Robert, might I speak to Cora alone for a moment?" Violet asked.

When Cora nodded her consent, Robert sighed and nodded his own, leaning down to kiss her once more before disappearing behind the doors leading back to the party. Cora waited until she heard the click of the doors before gazing up at Violet, wondering just how much she was about to regret allowing Robert to leave.

As if sensing her daughter-in-law's trepidation, Violet stepped forward and smiled ever so slightly. "My dear, I didn't come out here to fight."

"No?"

"No, I did not." Violet pursed her lips and drew her brow together, as if deep in thought. "What you did out there, it was rather admirable the way you defended yourself."

"It was…what?" Cora tilted her head in confusion, still quite sure that she was being led to a strong lecture about decorum in public.

"I love my son. I love him very much," Violet allowed, still looking directly at Cora as she continued. "And he loves you. I will not pretend I was immediately pleased at the latter but the fact is that it is true and I will not stand between you and my son. I have made a great many mistakes in my life—" she chuckled halfheartedly, gesturing toward the ballroom "—contacting that horrid woman in there because I was angry at Robert certainly being one of them—and I…all I can do now is apologize. Apologize to you and hope that we shall all be able to move on with our lives."

"You want to apologize?" Cora ventured, mimicking back the words in confusion.

"You're a member of the family now. And you'll find we Crawleys stick together," Violet explained, the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"So, are we to be friends then?" Cora couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it; less than an hour ago she had been terrified to run into Violet in the powder room, much less count her among her close friends.

Violet took a final step forward, closing the gap between them and taking Cora's hands in a gesture of surprising familial affection. "We are allies my dear, which can be a good deal more effective. We both want the best for this family. And the best for Robert."

Cora nodded, unable to stop herself from grinning. There would be long talks in their future and countless arguments, she was sure of that, but perhaps just for the night they could all enjoy the party. "Alright, then. Shall we go back in to the party and toast our new alliance?"

To this, Violet smiled and nodded in agreement. "Yes, we may. So long as you refrain from hurling any mixed drinks in my direction." The two women laughed, wandering back into the ballroom. It was perhaps a more shakier alliance than either hoped for, but it was a start—and a start was all either of them really needed, anyway.

* * *

The party ended several hours later after countless dances, photographs and several happy kisses between the bride and groom. They had ambled all the way home and spilled into the foyer of the townhouse after an incredibly soothing ride in the limousine. Both pleasantly full of champagne and perhaps an overindulgence of merriment, they walked hand in hand in the direction of the bedroom. And they were nearly there when Robert stopped and pointed down the hall toward the door leading out to the back patio.

"Look," he remarked, "you can see the stars tonight."

Cora grinned and leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Let's go out and look?" She let Robert lead the way down the hall; he clicked open the glass door as he stepped out, pulling her close beside him when they were both fully outside.

"It's a beautiful night," he mused.

Cora smiled, turning to look at her husband.

He was looking up at the stars.

He was gazing intently up at the glittering sky, his hand woven tightly with hers. It was so very different than the last time he had taken a moment to gaze up at the stars. For the last time he had looked, _really _looked, they had been only artificial, covering the ceiling of Jalouse on the night he met Cora. But now, now everything was different. No longer artificially lovely, the night sky Robert looked up at made him feel small in a wonderfully exhilarating way. It was enough; he knew that it was all enough. He and Cora, their life together in their home in London beneath the beautiful sky, it was so far beyond enough that he knew he would never tire of it.

They stood like that for a time, just gazing up and enjoying the cool fall night. It was Cora whose legs finally began to ache, after such a long night of dancing, and pulled Robert down onto the steps leading out to the small grassy yard.

"Perhaps we'll have a dog to run around with in the yard with someday," she smiled.

"Or perhaps a child?" Robert turned, looking far more serious about the prospect than Cora expected, and grinned at her, adding, "someday, of course."

"Yes," Cora replied, smirking indulgently at him. "Someday." Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes, images of their future quickly painting themselves across her mind.

Robert held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her lavender perfume and pressing a kiss to her forehead or cheek every so often. Cora had nearly fallen asleep in the comfort of his embrace when her husband began to speak quietly. "You know before you, my life before was moving so quickly that I hardly had time to notice how empty it was. But now I have so many things to be thankful for: my home and my family, of course, but most of all I must give thanks for my wife."

Cora sighed contentedly, inclining her head toward him. "You've made me so very happy, my love, and I could not ask for more than this." She whispered. "Let's go to bed?"

Robert nodded, standing so that he could offer her his hand to help her up. Cora clasped his hand and hoisted herself up, entwining their hands together as they walked back inside and toward the bedroom to get some sleep.

It had, after all, been a very long night.

_Fin._

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, reviewed, and read this story. I had such a wonderful time writing it and will miss it very much. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the support! x_

_And many thanks to Krisnreine whose idea this story was based on and whose beta help I appreciated greatly. And to my most favorite beta-reader and friend ladycobert, who is more helpful than she could possibly know! _


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